It's been our experience over the  years of  hiking through the ravine trails that Saturday is generally very quiet; few people and their dogs seem to venture out into nature on Saturdays. And that is quite understandable; the first 'free' day after the work week is taken up with a great many catch-up homebody things, chief among them shopping.

People are mad for shopping. Not only the necessities to restock the refrigerator with perishable food, but just to satisfy the acquisitive urge to mosey about shopping malls, slipping into one store after another, or to check out sales advertisements; shopping is an attractant to most people, as though it's driven into our modern-day DNA that we must shop to acquire desirable things. It's why we have so many 'desirable' items in our possession.

Keeping up with what's popular and the latest fads, including updating wardrobes represents a large part of our shopping experience. All of which fades somewhat with age and maturity, but not completely. As for those no longer in the workforce when one might assume since opportunity is there to do whatever is desired, shopping would take place at times convenient when the stores are not thronged with working people appears to be simplistic an idea. Simply because of habit.

In any event, we've long become accustomed to seeing no one else out on the trails of a Saturday. It's different on Sunday, then people do tend to come out in droves. 'Droves' being simply relative. But there's notably something in the air of late; we can see it in Jackie and Jillie, and feel it ourselves; the longer daylight hours are now noticeable, some of the warblers are beginning to return from their winter migration, and the inevitability of spring's arrival is impinging on people's consciousness.

Today being Saturday it was an anomaly to see a good many people out and about on the trails. The first person we came across was in a bit of a dazzle, camera in hand, we saw him crouching on a hillside to gain a favoured perspective of the landscape. He was, he told us, beaming happily, just wandering about on the different trails, not knowing where he was in relation to streets outside the ravine, just appreciating his first-time introduction to the spectacular winter landscape.

And after that, it was a succession of others we came across, couples, family groups, singles, some with dogs, some without, but all appearing to enjoy the  fresh air, sun and sparkling-white arras of the forest floor and its sentried trees. Jackie and Jillie came across a full array of dogs, large and small, single and in small packs, ages fifteen to puppyhood. And everyone seemed blissed out.

Oh well, not quite everyone; we did pass a woman, smiling apologetically, trying to control her large muscular white fluff of a dog, who appeared intent on grabbing Jackie and tearing him limb to limb. There are times when I would like other dogs to deliver a comeuppance to our unfriendly little pair whose idea of a greeting toward other dogs is not a tail wag, but a barking frenzy -- but a nip would do, not a truly punishing physical encounter.

We met up with people we'd never seen before who wanted to stand about and chat, and others we've known for years, and then of course you do stand about and chat endlessly bringing one another up to speed on all manner of things. To state that this was a leisurely walk in appreciation of the milder temperature that is destined to remain with us all week, where today was 2C, the air whipped by a strenuous wind, but sun gleaming above, would be a vast understatement.