Another all-day rain yesterday kept us from our daily peregrination through the Bilberry Creek Ravine forest. So today Jackie and Jillie were eager to get out. When we woke this morning, though it was late it was so dark we weren't certain we hadn't mistaken the time for evening rather than an overcast daybreak. The gloom of perpetual dusk in the house interior has a dual effect on mood; discomfort and comfort, both. After all, we're perfectly comfortable ensconced in a warm house, preparing for breakfast at our leisure. On the other hand, hovering dusk in early morning hours dashes expectations for a day of outside adventure.

We needn't have been concerned; unlike the relentless rain of yesterday, rain withheld its presence and light snow flurries eventuated instead. The temperature hovered at 1C, and dampness prevailed, with a tolerable wind. Jackie and Jillie trotted after me as the kitchen was cleaned up, our beds made, and we continued reading for a while waiting for the darkness to lift.

So are we going already? could be plainly read in Jackie's expressive little face. He's our little man of action, always on the move, dizzyingly so. His sister on the other hand, doesn't get too stressed over things, taking events in her stride, and just content to be comfortable awaiting the big decision when to burst out of the house into the wilds of the forest trails.

Ah, the trails, those pathways leading in one direction and then another through the forest. Although the forest floor has absorbed a certain degree of frost, there's a surface layer that responds to the elements and since we've had so much rain this week, the leaf mass has deteriorated and integrated with the clay that comprises the bulk of the soil in this area, to produce a thick slush of muck. Reason enough to boot up little paws.

And no doubt part of the reason that we now once again have the trails to ourselves. The number of people from the community and beyond that had sought out the trails for months has declined to the point of completely vanishing. The wind and the cold, the slippery conditions underfoot and the monotone of grey/black in the foliage-deprived woods no longer call their siren song to those unaccustomed to nature's seasonal landscapes. And we have no complaint about it.

Today was a day devoted to noticing and admiring a range of fungi of various types appearing on old logs, on tree stumps and on live trees in the forest. There's lichen aplenty on the trunks and branches of some of the trees, in shades of green, grey and silver. But it's the presence of different types of fungi that is far more fascinating, their shapes and decorative value attesting to nature's aesthetic sense. And of course the bright green, lush mosses that make their home on trunks and logs, like living carpets.

On the forest heights above the ravine the forest floor resembles that of an early spring day, flush with little ponds of meltwater and rain. The snow we had revelled in just a week ago now completely gone, melted to form ponds augmented by the rain that followed. The frozen and already drenched forest floor has reached its absorption capacity.