Monday's walk in the woods was sheer perfection. Tuesday made no pretensions to rival Monday, but it did manage to present us with non-complaint-worthy weather for our afternoon ramble on the forest trails with Jackie and Jillie. Cooler, windier, with an inconstant sun, but on the other hand Monday's warmth and full sun exposure managed to melt even more areas of ice to free up large portions of the forest trails which became Tuesday's discovery.

The suddenness of the change always takes us by surprise. Before we're really conscious of the great leap forward into spring we think that the transition will never take place. And since this year's winter snowpack was larger even than a normal winter season in the Ottawa Valley which is itself considerable, we knew it would take longer for the banks of snow and ice to succumb to spring. And they did.

But here we were yesterday, looking about us at the forest interior and large areas free of snow met our eyes. It seemed, in retrospect, that it would never happen. And now, in the present, it has. The forest floor has shed its deep frost holding everything within hostage, but it too will soon nudge all the plant life so long submerged and held fast by the cold, to emerge. Just not quite yet.

On the other hand, some early-awakening shrubs in the understory like Hazelnuts have already begun the renewal process; catkins were dangling yesterday preparing for the wind to unleash their stores of pollen. And newly-released logs lying on the forest floor reveal their green blanket of lush mosses, none the worse for wear over the long months of icy cold and snow coverage.

Early in our walk we came across an old friend walking two dogs beside his own; one a neighbour's he often takes out because the neighbour is too infirm, and the other his daughter's, a young poodle mix we'd never seen before, full of frantic energy, a feisty young dog that wanted desperately to play with everyone.

That the sap is now running upward into the trunks of trees is hard not to miss; some trees weep sap from old wounds. And if we look up, up high toward the sky and the forest canopy we can see that the topmost masts of old poplars are ready to burst into leaf. The maples will follow, and the willows, the beech, the ironwood and the wild apple trees and birches. The last will be the oaks and the hawthorns.

As we hiked along the trails, there were fewer and fewer episodes of sunlight making its way through gathering clouds. And soon the sky was infused with clouds dense enough to block out the sun. When we were close to the end of our circuit, light rain began to fall.

In mid-afternoon the light rain became heavier, and by evening the rain fell full throttle, continuing on through the night. And when we finally rose this morning it was to a saturated landscape. But then, as morning turned to afternoon out came the sun again. Huzzah!