So the raccoons are now comfortable and confident enough to come around, usually one at a time, occasionally a duo, earlier in the day. Say from four in the afternoon on through the night-time hours.  Which means the dog kibble needs to be replenished fairly frequently on the porch. Jackie and Jillie know when the guests have arrived even if they're elsewhere in the house other than the foyer looking out the front door.

And when Jackie rushes over to the door and sees the raccoon on the porch he goes somewhat berserk with outrage at this unsolicited presence on his personal territory. He barks ferociously, leaping up at the glass-fronted door, snarling threateningly. The raccoons as good as yawns. Booring, little black poodle, go peddle your annoyance elsewhere.

The rabbit comes along when dark has fallen, and even though we keep the porch light on, I'm unable to film the little fellow. Besides which, rabbits are far more readily alarmed by any hint of possible danger, and if it knows it is being watched, it swiftly retreats. Not far, mind, at this juncture in our relationship; soon to return.  During the evening hours to keep Jackie and Jillie from intimidating any wildlife that comes around to eat the offerings on the porch, we take the precaution of keeping them locked out of the foyer.

The raccoons, knowing I'm there, seeing me through the door, couldn't care less. They just blot out any presence looming over them, knowing that there is a barrier between them and us; the door. They're really intelligent creatures and catch on pretty fast. And it's a pleasure for us to see them out and about. My husband worries that at this time of year food sources are scarce for them.

Yesterday the cold snap that the high winds of the day before brought in, freezing everything that had begun to melt, creating a really icy obstacle course of the forest trails in the ravine in some places. Making the potential for falls all the more possible, and we know if we fall there now no soft snow-packed trail will cushion the fall. So it took no little amount of care to remain upright and in control of our balance yesterday afternoon as we made our way through the ravine.

Even Jackie, light as he is, slipped here and there. Jillie, a little weightier and more careful where she treads, had no such difficulty. But the trail had frozen solid and where bootsteps of the day before had broken deep into the snowpack to become foot-sized deep depressions in the prevailing slush of that milder-temperature day, yesterday it had all frozen, heavily and deeply pocked, and making it difficult to avoid slipping into those areas, risking a twisted ankle. So evasion was called for and we did our best.

The wind was lighter, but howling at a lower level, and so where it penetrated the bush, it sent its icy winterish fingers all over us until shelter was found in areas of the trail deeper in the woods that provided a windbreak environment.