If there is such an identifiable event as 'the perfect winter day', surely that was today. We gratefully accepted nature's generosity in awarding us winter-weary eastern Ontario residents with a clear sky and full sun, matched by a day-time high temperature nudging 2C, and light wind. Of course, we won't feel quite so grateful by the time Friday rolls around. Thursday night's low is slated to be -26C (again), and following that a high of -17C for Friday afternoon.

But we had the perfect outdoor day today and made the most of it. We ventured out a bit earlier in the afternoon than usual for us today, Jackie and Jillie in almost full-regalia towing us along behind. On such days they become restless as soon as breakfast is over, urging to leave the house even to go out to the backyard repeatedly to race madly after one another or to stand briefly on the deck, glorying in the sun. All our little dogs have been sun-lovers, and I've little doubt it's a rare dog that doesn't revel in the sun other than in high summer.

So, out we went. Despite the mild temperature they still needed their little boots because the snow on the forest trails is friable, loose and airy and clings in icy clumps to the too-long hair on their legs. Without the boots they would quickly acquire hard lumps on their paws between their pads and that is extremely uncomfortable. In two weeks' time they will finally get to the groomers. Their long hair performs a valuable function during the really cold months, but it also tends to pick up snow and detritus from the forest floor.

There is so much snow down, with a snowpack only now approaching that of an average winter here that a comfort of serene silence seems to prevail. And then about twenty minutes into our hike we were arrested by the most peculiar sound, a sudden, deep rumbling of some kind of ferociously loud and hard impact. The sound itself seemed near, but its source could have been distant. It might have been mechanical, emanating from a dump truck, the sound carrying far on the still, frozen air. Or it could have been a detonation, an explosion related to some kind of construction venture in the region.

And then everything fell still again. It seemed more like a dramatic figment of imagination than an actual occurrence. It took awhile before a startled, frightened pair of little dogs stopped barking. And then we continued on. For the sun was shining high through the trees, the snow sparkling before us, and we were once again lulled into complacency and admiration for nature's landscaping skills.

There are a few old benches that had been installed ages ago at key spots in the ravine, usually at a promontory, looking down over and into the inclines leading into the ravine from the landscape prominences above. They're becoming buried in the accumulated snow. But there have been winters when they've been completely buried.

We did meet up with a fellow ravine hiker. Not someone we know well, but we're familiar with him, having seen him on a number of previous occasions in the past year or so, walking the smallest chocolate Lab we've ever seen. It's an English Lab, he once informed us, and it had some kind of malady that resulted in its legs being deformed and abnormally short, leaving it with an odd pronation.

But this dog like all those of its breed, is the quintessential good fella, with a wonderfully mellow disposition. A bit bashful, but once he recognizes you he feels relaxed and comfortable. It melted my heart to see this beautiful dog, who normally when other large dogs are around, tends to be uncertain and worried, to invite Jackie and Jillie to play with him.

This ramble through the winter woods was a particularly long one this afternoon. We felt loathe to leave the woods, the landscape, the stillness, the beauty of it all. We watched as a small group of chickadees flittered about over the creek. And then stood awhile watching a pair of downy woodpeckers flicker up and down an old tree, Jackie and Jillie wondering what was wrong with us, and pulling on their leashes to remind us that we were there for a purpose, and we were neglecting them....