The day started out bright, the sun sailing in a broad azure sky, and for a change that didn't result in a dreadfully cold atmosphere, since the high for the day was supposed to be 0C. The wind, however, made quick work of any expectation that sun and milder temperatures would make for the illusion we were temporarily visiting the tropics.

I began the day with housecleaning, and it puzzles me that when I'm the busiest, dusting, mopping, vacuuming, washing floors, I somehow become enthused about taking interior photographs. It was the sun streaming through our stained glass windows that my husband had designed and created decades ago, that moved me to do that. The coloured glass is just irresistible, the the glow it casts at various times of the day as changeable as the weather.

By the time I'd finished cleaning though, the sun thought obviously that it had given us sufficient entertainment and warmth for the day, and withdrew -- inviting clouds to take its place, and they did that, very efficiently. Off we set under a steel-grey sky, with wind and an ambient temperature that felt no milder than the nippy feeling of the day before.

Jackie and Jillie though are impervious to those thoughts and impressions, as far as we know. They had no need of boots yesterday, and it's debatable whether they even noticed, but we did, since it meant we had less fussing about to do before setting out.

We had reached the bottom of the hill leading down into the ravined forest and noticed black specks scattered on the snow under a large old pine. We knew immediately that the specks were in reality tiny corpses. Jackie and Jillie were curious, sniffing about the tiny creatures which, when live and flying about they'd do their utmost to evade.

About twenty feet up on the trunk of the old pine there is a wild-bee hive, a hole occupied for years by bees and previously by squirrels. Last year we came across the same phenomenon of dead bees scattered under the tree on the snow and wondered if we'd see bees active around the hive the following spring. We did. We hazarded a guess that the offcast bees represented winter housecleaning. They may have been industrious and useful to the hive and its occupants throughout their lives, but it seems they had outgrown their roles once nature yanked their lifeforce from them, completing their lifespan.

Later on as we moseyed about on the trails, we encountered a few other people likewise engaged with their companion dogs, everyone appreciating a bit of a lull in the extreme weather conditions and eager to make the most of the opportunity to enjoy an afternoon out in the forest.

We'd had a fairly lengthy circuit and surmised our two puppies were as exercised as we were from the physical effort expended. They proved just that, as they collapsed on the sofa after they had been given the return-treat they most enjoy nibbling on; cauliflower florets.