A lovely day yesterday was, a moderate winter temperature hovering around freezing by the time afternoon rolled around when we went out for our daily hike through the trails in the ravine. Little wind, heavily overcast, and the trails underfoot were really quite good. A bit of slipping and sliding on the ascents and descents, but overall excellent.

Although the snow has been swept off the high reaches of the forest canopy, ample still remains on the trees of the lower story, and the result is as enchanting seen from a modest distance as we could wish for. A snow-swept landscape of ineffable beauty.

Jackie and Jillie had plenty of opportunity to sniff about to their hearts' content. We, though having to keep them on leash, are managing the discomfort of one free hand after years of all of us walking independently while still in our little group.

Jackie has a tendency, when he sees another dog in the distance, to rear up on his back legs and walk some distance that way

When we were coming down the first hill descending from street level into the ravine we came across a familiar figure in the distance. His small black Lab came rushing over to greet Jackie and Jillie, back-end rolling from side to side in an excess of friendly joy over his pleasure at the day, the environment and his freedom to roust about wherever he wished. We only wish we could do the same still with our two little dogs.

Later on, as we were ascending that same long hill to return home after the conclusion of our hike, a much larger black Lab came barrelling down the hill toward us, as happy go-lucky and in love with the world and its own existence as the previous one had been. Again, a familiar figure accompanied the Lab. This breed is invariably friendly and comfortable around people. And this wasn't the only black Lab that we've come across with a penchant to gliding between people's legs.

As this one did repeatedly with me; storming through, look out!. He is a large dog, barrel-bodied, and I'm fairly slight, now under five feet in height, and it took a bit of a balancing act to accommodate the dog's insistent determination while maintaining my upright posture, laughing the while.

It was a nice dog-day, yesterday. Halfway between our encounter with the two black Labs, we came across a young woman we'd never before seen in the ravine.

With her was a graceful and beautiful Weimaraner with a lovely bronze-red coat, a little on the small side for the breed, with their beautiful conformation, such that it's sheer pleasure to see them in fluid motion. This fellow couldn't have been friendlier, nudging us for attention, and curious about our two little black companions. We mentioned the presence of coyotes to the young woman, and then parted our separate ways.

Later on, we came across the pair again, and once again walked companionably together briefly. And in that brief time something quite peculiar happened. Out of the corner of my left eye I felt as though we were being observed, the three people we represented and our three dogs. My eyes slide to the left and beyond, at a line of trees just before the ridge we were on sloped down again to the valley of the ravine, I saw the furtive, fleeting vision of a tall, rangy grey figure.

A dog? Without a human companion; my eyes swept as far as I could see beyond the trees and down the slope to another trail far below. Nothing.