When we started out on an early afternoon walk today through the ravine, the sky was an ocean of blue, the sun sailing brightly across it, illuminating the snow that covers the landscape, thanks to the previous two days of continuous snowfall. Conditions couldn't be more perfect for a romp through the forest trails for Jackie and Jillie. By the time we returned home after an hour-and-a-half tramp through the forest trails, clouds had moved in, obscuring the sun.

True, the cold has returned, with a high today of -6C, but that's milder than is usual for a January day, so no complaints there. The nipping wind that tried very hard to rip through our winter clothing yesterday was gone. It had the effect though, of loosening snow clumps gripping the tree branches, but there was ample snow left that stubbornly hung fast to ensure that the forest retained its lovely, frosted-white appearance.

Today, Jackie and Jillie didn't want for company. Others like ourselves were out and about, and mostly they were people we've long known, and our puppies had a long familiarity with theirs, so a good energetic challenge repeated itself time and again as we made our way through the forest and the dogs held their own racing competitions. Our two were the only ones wearing boots, because they're the smallest, their paws definitely pint-sized and needful of protection from the combination of loose snow and biting cold.

We stood and talked with old friends for prolonged periods more than is advisable on a cold day, for all involved. Briskly striding through the trails is one thing, the activity ensures energy is being used and you retain warmth. Being stationary and exercising only one's mouth and ears is a different story altogether. Cold gradually creeps up and in and under, barely noticed when you're engaged in conversation, but more than noticeable once you move on.

For the number of people we came across of our long acquaintance the day's forest trek was memorable. One of our friends brought us up to date on her husband's uncomfortable (to say the least) bout of inflamed swelling in one of his wrists. From an innocuous handshake and wrist-twist, brother to brother her husband's wrist became grotesquely swollen, black and blue and painful. His doctor is adamant he must see a specialist. The specialist wanted to see him in short order. But her husband, despite the pain insisted he had too many things in his schedule, and wanted to wait until February. She took the initiative to tell him he had to cancel everything and make the specialist appointment his priority.

A discussion with another friend led to the revelation of something quite mysterious. She had been walking along a little-used trail close to the main creek and suddenly heard her dog growling and making quite a fuss. When she approached, she saw a beaver pelt lying in the snow. The pelt, nothing else, everything was clean, the pelt empty of its animating inner presence, as though the animal had been cleanly butchered, skinned and the evidence deliberately placed there.

Another told us that an acquaintance who has a small and elderly dog with hip and back-end problems tends to look behind him often because his somewhat lame old dog always lags behind, walking through the forest trails. A few days ago he informed her that he looked back, his eye caught something moving, and he turned his gaze to look directly at a coyote in the near distance, watching them. And this at mid-day.

We've been hearing narratives lately that are a little alarming. In one sense it's nice to hear that animals appreciate the forest as a valued habitat. It is their home, after all, and we but visitors. In another sense, the presence of predators isn't entirely comforting. We don't mind hawks and owls being present, but middling-sized predators like coyotes feeling confident enough to be seen in daylight hours isn't without its concerns. Certainly, other, smaller creatures wouldn't appreciate their presence.

A few days ago another of our friends who has a very small black Labrador that enjoys leaping about freely out of his sight, told us that someone had informed him that a coyote had actually attacked an 80-lb. dog in the woods. And that just makes us wonder whether this is a matter more of hysteria than actual probability. Coyotes are known to hunt in small packs; to lure an unsuspecting dog to 'play' and when it is in a vulnerable place, the others emerge.