Although we're very well aware that dusk is a warning and night falls with a thump in late afternoon (not SO LATE afternoon!) these wintry days, we were still taken by surprise when we left the house yesterday just after four and soon found ourselves in darkness in the ravine. Not that darkness is any kind of a hindrance to our hike through the forest trails. We know them intimately. Aside from the fact that we've got to be aware of our footing regardless of the amount of light available to us.

It's just the suddenness of the transition from twilight to utter darkness that's so surprising. Mind, if we still had snow down on the ground there'd be no problem with lack of light. My camera, needless to say, went on strike. There were no photographs to commemorate yet another appreciated and pleasurable hike in the forest for Jackie and Jillie. They didn't mind. Nor did they mind lollygagging about on the trails here and there stopping to inhale one odour after another, absence of light or not, making sense of it all, as we cannot.

They did mind this morning when we left the house without them, however. Jackie barking furiously at us, and Jillie keenly whining 'how could you do this to us again when we've been so good?'. Just as we can't understand what is so attractively irresistible to them sniffing about everywhere, they cannot understand that they won't be eating all the great food they so enjoy if we don't move ourselves to get out to the supermarket before the aisles are crowded with grocery shoppers.

They're ecstatic on our return, leaping all over us, nibbling at our hands, kissing our faces, tearing at our clothing to make certain it's really us, we've returned. And then they turn their attention to what's been brought into the house with our presence restored. Four large boxes full of goodies. Some meant for them, the rest for us, and some we'll share. An unequal proportion each way, but we're considerably larger and of a different species than they are. 

Treats? of course, treats! From cauliflower to chicken and 'bacon' strips. And then, of course, breakfast. Including their portions of hard-boiled egg, half an egg apiece. Routine and familiar and anticipated. And then it was relaxation all around. Time to read the newspapers, discuss the news of the day. And before we know it, it's time to leave the house again...!

A very cold morning, with an expected high of -6C, and a brittle wind. So though it's dry out the puppies need not only their fleecy winter coats but boots as well, and so do we. Cold enough to dissuade other would-be hikers from leaving their comfortably warm  homes. But the trails, as they have been for the last three days, are perfect, frozen solid, no more mush to trek through, and that's a relief. 

The sun is still riding high in the sky, a wide, pale blue sky with not a cloud in sight. And as the sun penetrates the forest canopy, its bright rays are stunningly blinding. Well, I forgot to take with sunglasses. But that's all right; for the most part in the forest we're shielded from the sun, and those brief moments when it's able to bypass the screen of the forest trees, its rays warm our backs. It's wonderful to feel so free and grateful for everything surrounding us. It's wonderful to be so pleasantly distracted from all that's happening in the world, to enable us to fully appreciate life in all its glory.