There are winters, and they haven't been rare, when the snowpack is so deep that only a narrow corridor allowed our puppies to range about in the backyard, paths criss-crossing after being shoveled out following one snowstorm after another. This is not one of those winters. We have acquired a snowpack after numerous snowfalls, but it's a relatively modest one.

Previously the snowpack has been high enough to discourage our puppies from wandering off the shoveled paths; the height of the unshoveled snow just too demanding a leap and barely worthwhile. Now, they can simply saunter about, off the shoveled paths with a small leap if the mood takes them, and it often does.

Those large volumes of accumulated snow in previous years that gathered in the forest meant that the trails that countless boots tamped down were also narrow since the point of least resistance with heavy snow on the ground is always where someone else has already trodden. At either side of the trail invariably there were deep banks of snow inviting no one to explore the forest interior, neither man nor beast.

We'd gone out a bit late yesterday afternoon to give Jackie and Jillie their daily romp. Not so much of a romp for them anymore since they've had to be leashed. But they still have some freedom even if it's the length of the retractable leash. And at times when we meet up with people we know and there are other dogs about -- usually dogs quite a bit larger than ours -- we let them roam to their hearts' content as long as they're among the pack.

We were out in the gloom yesterday. Which is to say dusk was beginning to set in. But just like in the summer when it has rained and the forest interior is slightly dark, colours tend to leap out, enhanced by the glaze of the rainwater. So too when it's just beginning to get dusky, colours -- the few that are about, like foliage of ironwood, oak and beech, tend to have a copper gleam in the failing light.

Dusk falls so quickly that by the time we returned home, entered the house, put on some lights, drew the curtains across the sliding patio doors, the exterior was bathed in darkness. But all day the temperature had been stalled at an unbelievable -- for an Ottawa midwinter -- 2C, and there was a very slow melt under leaden skies, a comfortable temperature to be out in, so altogether, it made for a delightful little hike through the ravine.

That, at least, is what Jackie and Jillie told us. Despite that light snow mixed with freezing rain came down all the while we were on the forest trails, and though our two little charges were wearing their winter-weight raincoats, every part of them except their chest, rump and abdomen got pretty soaked. And whenever they are wet they go a little berserk, rampaging through the house after one another in an excess of frenetic energy.