From early morning forward this was a winter-balmy day of high temperature that soared to 5C, light wind and sun and cloud. Mostly sun. Enough to ensure that Jackie and Jillie asked repeatedly to have the patio door slid open so they could slip out for brief encounters with the sun, posing on the deck as sun worshippers. When they were in the house, Jackie trotted over to the glassed front door to watch squirrels eating peanuts. Whiling away the time until we would all embark on an afternoon drift through the winter forest.

How things change.  The ravine and its forest which we almost could once consider our very own private urban wilderness area for the number of people we could see on any given day throughout our three decades of trekking across its many and varied trails, is becoming a community playground. The number and variety of people we have been encountering throughout the ravine trails of late has marked quite a difference form what we have been accustomed to.

Perhaps numbers relate to the time of year, closing in on spring as winter begins to shut down, even if it continues to struggle to hold the fort so to speak, when people are assailed with thoughts of 'enough winter! come on spring!'. In plain language that anyone can understand, we're in the initial throes of spring fever. Not just we, but our companion pets.

Circumstances have a tendency sometimes to converge, and we're seeing that now in winter-weary people, signs of emerging spring, and a weather-moderate week-end. To us, the forest is irresistible at any time, beckoning us to its trails. But with the combination of late winter when the forest floor remains thickly slathered in accumulated snow, the temperature mild enough that even the wind cannot make it seem cold, the opportunity to get out and enjoy it all calls to everyone.

Of course that's an oversimplification. Clearly not 'everyone' is interested in immersing themselves in the loveliest of winter landscapes when conditions to do so are perfect. But enough to make an impression. On us, at any rate. We saw two young women hauling an improvised sleigh-cradle along the upper trails today with a months' old baby bundled inside. It's just what we used to do ourselves over twenty years ago when our granddaughter was an infant.

There were young families with very young children posting themselves on some of the interior hills, hurtling themselves downhill in brightly-coloured plastic toboggans and sleds, hurrying back up again to repeat the thrill, children dressed in bright, warm and colourful clothing, screaming with delight at the fun they were being exposed to. And we saw older people out with their companion dogs walking the trails and obviously enjoying themselves.

The sun was in and out all day, brightening the atmosphere with a new emphasis on light and warmth as the spring equinox begins its approach. Its position in the sky is much higher, and it casts much longer shadows now than it does during the early winter months. With all the commotion, the excited movement and sound everywhere, it was a fair guess that any coyotes thinking of presenting themselves would think otherwise, today.

No matter, Jackie and Jillie remained fully leashed. They still had plenty of opportunities to befriend other dogs, and before our circuit was completed this afternoon we even came across old friends whom we haven't seen in months. Walking their extremely small beagle, Iggy. Jackie and  Jillie were happy to greet old friends. Their memory is faultless in recalling who among our friends has a tendency to carry small treats to dole out generously, and they weren't disappointed.

Then, when we began to approach the final leg of our traipse through the woods, emerging close to the last bridge that takes us over the forest creek and toward the last long hill we haul ourselves up to street level we stopped briefly. From there, we could see in the distance, a good-sized group of adults and children on a long, inclined portion of one of the hills that comprise the ravined forest, having a whale of a time sledding downhill, and slogging uphill to do it all again.