Yesterday was almost idyllic. Really spring-warm at 14C, with a breeze, not a wind, caressing our cheeks. Though the sky wasn't completely clear of clouds, they were white and fluffy and didn't seem to mind moving aside for the sun when it importuned them from time to time. Of course, we never consider the sun to be rude. It is, after all, the engine of life and growth on this planet, the clouds mere conveyors of (also needed) moisture to sustain life.

And we can see the immediate effects of both as spring has assured us now, that it's here to stay. She and grumpy winter had a long, serious conversation between them, moderated by Mother Nature and despite his disagreeable, late-season temperament, winter agreed it was time to depart. And set about doing so disgruntedly. Yesterday's atmosphere, however, was a gift to us, not a parting gift to winter.

In actual fact, he left in such a hurry he appears to have forgotten some of his baggage. Fact is, in some areas of the forested ravine where we take our little pups Jackie and Jillie, for daily romps through forest trails, it's evident just how careless winter has been, unless his lax attitude was deliberate...? He's 'forgotten' behind quite a lot of snow and ice, leaving it for spring to deal with. Quite unfair to be sure, but that's how but we can trust in spring's efficiency to clear all that away.

Jack-in-the-Pulpit

In any event it will go, the icy trails that still force us to wear cleats over our boots. Trails whose ice pack will remain for at least another few weeks, they're that solid and thick. Whereas in other parts of the forest there's no sign at all that snow had ever accumulated to a depth of several feet throughout the winter months. There, the melting snow and spring rain have saturated the forest floor to the extent that it cannot absorb any more, and sizeable little lakes of ice-water sit over the soil and the generations' worth of leaf mass generating new life.

This must sound like one huge groan of complaint. Perhaps it does, but it isn't meant to be. We're at the point where everything looks drab and dismal. It's a brief period before spring becomes really well established. And once that happens, colour will begin to pop out here and there, the sun becoming warmer and brighter and the days even longer, the atmosphere warmer, and before long wildflowers will begin decorating the forest floor.

Bunchberry (dogwood)

Speaking of new life, although it's early yet, we can soon begin to anticipate the appearance of the early spring flowers that always delight us in the spring woods. The first we'll see are coltsfoot with their bright yellow dandelion-like heads, and then the trilliums will appear, and the trout lilies, and the woodland violets and the foamflowers, and the strawberries and the lilies-of-the-valley, and the bunchberries and the Jacks-in-the-Pulpit.

Lily-of-the-Valley

Well, they've not all been named because there are so many, and there are some others that appear elsewhere, like Marsh marigolds and Ladies Slippers to name but a few, which don't tend to bloom in our nearby forest. We, of course, are more than happy with the presence of those that do. And we look forward to seeing them in their successive appearances, along with the understory vegetation that will also bloom, the Hawthorns, the wild apple trees, the honeysuckles and much more.

Trout Lily

All in good time, I know. We've already caught sight of slight little flying insects that resemble mosquitoes, on a few occasions, obviously early hatches resulting from the increasing warmth of the sun. And yesterday, as we were making our way through the various trails in the interconnected trail circuit, we were surprised to see the recognizable flutter of a Mourning Cloak, the first of the woodland butterflies to hatch in the spring.

Mourning Cloak butterfly (and shadow)

We weren't entirely certain, it looked too small although it had the right conformation and colouration, but the sighting was so brief we were less than convinced. Until another, larger one went by, somewhat less in a hurry than the first one, giving us the opportunity to have a good, fairly close identity check, and yep, that's just what it was.

Crimson Trillium

Foamflower