No better time than today to make the 100km drive out into the country to see our daughter and granddaughter. They live in a century-old log home, extended and upgraded over the years from its time as a local schoolhouse. Our daughter's 58th birthday is several days' off, and our granddaughter's will arrive at the end of June. Who knows how often and when we will have this opportunity again... Our daughter had made re-usable face masks for her parents, and we would be picking them up, while dropping off birthday gifts for both.

So. soon after a leisurely breakfast, we packed up Jackie and Jillie and left for the trip. Oh, no, we didn't quite. We harnessed our two little black imps and made for the forest to first give them and us some fresh air and exercise close to home. The outdoors looked enticing from the indoors. A clear blue sky, the sun penetrating its warmth through the house windows, promising a day far different from yesterday with its full overcast and chill wind.

We had a hint of just how cool it was and what kind of blustery conditions prevailed, however, each time we went out into the backyard. And it was no different when we entered the forest, and by then clouds had moved in, so we had both overcast and sunny intervals throughout our hike through the trails, shoved along by the wind. We keep looking for signs that foliage is soon to appear, but nothing as  yet has revealed itself.

For a Saturday, the trails were surprisingly empty of anyone but ourselves. Likely because more people were out shopping since on Easter Friday stores were closed and Sunday they would be, as well. We had no complaints whatever though, traipsing along the trails, maintaining body warmth by the energy expended, compensating for the rampaging wind.

On the highway, driving through the city and finally attaining the countryside, we could see a faint haze of yellow at the tips of willow branches, and atop maples the unmistakable bright red of new buds. From a distance as we drove along we could also make out a faint green mist over some trees that seemed to disappear the closer we approached to the trees as we drove forward. Farmers' fields were still drenched by the melting snow, the soil already having absorbed all it could.

But in some fields there was the unmistakable shade of bright green coming up through the soil, seeded in the fall for a spring silage crop, so no doubt about it, despite the prevailing cold, the stubborn wind and sometimes-absent sun, spring is moving steadily ahead. As when we were on the forest trails, the highway, usually packed with traffic, was quiet with the occasional car or truck sharing it with us.

When we arrived at our daughter's house, she was out pottering about cleaning up the gardens closest to the house. Our granddaughter was out with their newly-adopted dog Lili. LIli and Sara who is now 14, the last of the original ten-pack our daughter had, have a large tall, chain-link enclosure to romp about in when they're not out on the trails on our daughter's 6-acre property. We exchanged the face masks our daughter made for us, with the gifts we had brought for her and her daughter. We maintained a physical distance, trying to ignore that distance for the emotional closeness we shared.

And then, we left, our daughter and granddaughter waving us off, and we, driving back through the small village of Pakenham, and over their famed five-span bridge fording the Mississippi River which was in full spring flood, stopped briefly. We parked beside the bridge to watch the mesmerizing drive of the river, its splurging and spraying and foaming as it rose and descended like a living thing -- which, in essence, it is -- a tributary of the much larger Ottawa River.