Yesterday morning the gardens outside our front door were still enveloped in snow from the snowfall of the day before. It took little time before mild temperatures moved in and wind whipped the snow off the trees. And then with the high for the day at 4C, snow began melting.

Sudden. Dramatic. Those are the shifts we experience in this region of the world when seasons, particularly winter and spring, prepare to absent themselves and introduce themselves in that order. It might seem reasonable to human minds that such transitions take place in an orderly, and gradual process, but man presumes and nature proceeds to do as she wishes, when she wishes, as she wishes.

But the signs -- we're beginning to see them. They're unmistakable. Yesterday a rabble of crows was vociferously making their presence known in the ravine. Swirling, swooping, flying above the canopy and calling to one another. Gathering and separating, re-gathering, hoarsely proclaiming their presence. It's entirely likely that this ritual has little to do on this occasion with harassing a sleeping owl.

And we've seen ducks increasingly, in the creek, and the creek is now wide open. We've an immense snowpack, the height we're walking on over the trails represents at least three feet of accumulated, dense layers of ice and snow. When it melts there will be a mad downward rush from the snow-packed hills of the ravine into the receptive creek prepared to wash winter into the past.

As for winter, we're not the least bit fooled. Our winters have a tendency to stubbornness; procrastination at the very least. True, we've suddenly turned from sub-zero to above-freezing temperatures during the day, dipping back to -6 and thereabouts at night. Perfect conditions for the sap to be ascending into tree trunks from its winter absence. Area sugar shacks are advertising their maple syrup activities. Another spring ritual -- the sap is running, and it's maple syrup time...

Yesterday, hardly anyone but us was out and about in the ravine. It's getting a little sloppy on the trails. But nothing like what it'll eventually -- and thankfully temporarily -- become. We had a prolonged trail walk and it was beyond pleasant to be able to remove mittens without hands freezing.

Another sign of spring -- squirrels are out and madly dashing about, chasing one another frantically up and down tree trunks. It's squirrel mating season and they're determined to get the most out of the season. Black squirrels chasing black squirrels and the occasional grey squirrel, and red squirrels chasing red squirrels. Chipmunks and other creatures are far more discreet.

And the best and most fascinating part of wildlife-spotting yesterday? At our own front door. Literally. We sometimes glimpse rabbits and raccoons coming around in the evening hours to gather up seeds, nuts and bread we leave out on the porch. Yesterday evening we hosted what we think is a juvenile raccoon, a lovely little fellow who was as curious about us as we were about him.