They weren't exactly glum, as though high expectations had been dashed, since they really detest rain and would far prefer to be indoors when it's wet out. But they were quiet, a little unsettled yesterday, as though anticipated routine had been interrupted -- which of course it had been. We awaited an opportunity from morning to mid-afternoon for the rain to pause and give us an opportunity to make our way out to the ravine yesterday, but it didn't happen.

Finally, we went off to do the grocery shopping, and Jackie and Jillie were left alone to engage in a little introspection and mourn our absence. Still it rained. As the afternoon drew closer to early evening the rain finally stopped. The urge to get out into the sopping forest somehow bypassed us, and Jackie and Jillie were cheated out of a tramp through the forest trails yesterday. So this morning when the sun shone we all brightened up considerably.

Mind, yesterday's mild temperature had given way to an overnight low of -7C. That could explain why there was a raccoon on the porch, looking for peanut leftovers. And in the morning it was cold, though the harsh wind of the day before had departed. Jackie and Jillie knew they'd be taken out for a nice, prolonged hike through the woods today.

Yesterday's mild temperature, above freezing, and the continuous rain had succeeded, as expected, in melting some of the snowpack on the forest floor, and it also made the trails treacherous, particularly on the many ascents and descents. Jackie and Jillie know enough to avoid the middle of the trail where the ice tends to be glassier and smoother, and make for the edges where crusted snow remained for better footing.

As the top layers of snow melt, they reveal the underlayer of ice. So there's that change. But there's also the aesthetic component involved in our changing landscape, for as the snow melts it reveals layers beneath hosting all manner of winter detritus, from the expected bits and pieces of branches and twigs and related woody detritus, to the inelegant leavings of dogs relieving themselves.

Halfway through our tramp, we came across Timbits and his person, close to a ravine entrance some considerable distance from our own street, Timbits is a miniature schnauzer that his people for reasons known only to themselves, expressed in a shrug, require that whenever he goes out, a long orange rope trails him, affixed to his collar, even though his people are always nearby. Timbits's predecessor, Kira, an even smaller, lively schnauzer was allowed by the same people to romp about on the trails without a rope trailing and entangling her. Go figure.

Before long, Nova, the white German Shepherd, came loping along, to join the company of three. He too had a predecessor, a female white German Shepherd who was imbued with a temperament as sweet as her successor's. Nova has a tendency to rush headlong at people and/or dogs approaching on the trails, toward  him. His size and conformation alongside this mannerism tends to make people fearful and other dogs uncertain, though he is very gentle. So Rod, his person, is belatedly teaching him to wait patiently for people/dogs to come along, then quietly greet them.

Although the sun had shone earlier in the day, while we were out it hid behind banks of fluffy white clouds, making a brief appearance now and again. A cold day, given the more moderate temperatures that have given us pleasure the past several weeks, absent yesterday's sharp winds. Once we returned home, however, the sky had cleared and the sun was in full, glowing display.