Likely it was because yesterday turned out to be such a balmy day at 2C, and then there was the draw of the enchanted snowy forest besides, and that would account for the fact that during our long ravine circuit yesterday we came across people, some with dogs, whom we'd never before seen. In such an environment it's difficult not to feel a pleasant glow -- and whoever we came across -- given that it's a new year and a  holiday, and we were in a magical place -- felt inclined to be sociable.

This wasn't a particularly good day as our days go for us, for we were anticipating driving our son to the airport to return to his home in Vancouver. He's our youngest child, and though he's now 57 years old, he's still our youngest child. With him we spent more time as he entered his adult years than with our other two children. We all shared a love of nature, but his commitment to the natural world surpassed ours, and certainly his siblings' draw to the great outdoors.

And so we shared a closer affinity to being together, to exploring and discovering and enjoying time together canoeing, hiking, mountain climbing. Between his Master's and his PhD we spent a year seeing him on weekends in the Great Smokies where he was doing research on contract for a prof. at University of Georgia. We hiked and climbed in North Carolina and Tennessee with him as well as Georgia.

And when he moved to British Columbia to study for his doctorate in Vancouver we would fly out to  have great adventures with him, like alpine camping, hiking in old growth forests, and canoeing the Bowron Lakes circuit. In between  he would find time on occasion to accompany us to New Hampshire to hike and mountain climb in the White Mountain range. While we no longer climb mountains he still does the magnificent coastal mountains of B.C. The perfect environment for him to kayak and ski.

Pretty tame stuff for him to take daily rambles in the ravine where we live now, and to zip through the forest trails on skis. We began to 'miss'  him even before driving him to the airport yesterday. Before then, though, we had a final tramp through the snowy trails of the forest on the first and second day of January 2020. Mostly overcast, we still had moments when the sun broke through in full glory to glance off the snowpack.

When we accessed an upper ridge trail, we were heartily amused to come across a family grouping. Not one's usual idea of a family grouping, to be sure, since someone with a robust sense of puckish humour had stationed a group of snowmen of varying heights companionably together; presumably a father, mother and two children, welcoming us to their very personal habitat.

And the next turn of the trail brought us toward that same Newfoundland puppy we'd seen earlier in the week. Like all puppies, despite his enormous size, this young fellow was happy to see people, and joyful to be out and about; curious about Jackie and Jillie, and in his enthusiasm thudding into me, nearly throwing me off balance, but not quite.

Our son thought he'd take a photo of us, so I handed my camera over, and he did just that. Leaving us with the happy memories of yet another time spent together, loving one another, sharing an environment that means so much to all of us and with a rare photograph of my husband and I together in our 83th year, closing in on 65 years of marriage.