Should anyone wonder why it is that Canadians are so consumed by the weather, this is one reason; the extremes and unpredictability of Canadian winters. No sooner had we cleaned up from yesterday's all-day snowstorm, than we're encountering another one directly afterward. Well, of course we can  handle all of this, Canadians are accustomed to snow, snow and more snow.

Ottawa, the nation's capital, gets lots of it. So do two other capitals in countries known for emphatic winter conditions; Moscow and Ulan Bator. Ottawa comes third in both the temperature and the snow volume department, evidently. 

Of course more snow was forecast for today, after yesterday's dump. Snow is delightful actually, it charms the eyes and brings out the child in everyone, recalling memories of delving deep in the soft, velvety, bright and elusive flakes of snow, so malleable, so cold, so useful as a plaything, from throwing snowballs to making snow forts.

It wasn't until after dinner last night when Irving went out in the dark to shovel the pathways for Jackie and Jillie in the backyard, thinking that would be it. Despite snow coming down all day from morning to night, we only had an accumulation of about 7 cm yesterday. And the temperature overnight was absolutely balmy. It was still 1C this morning, and rose later in the day to 2C, delightfully mild.

Surely the snow would turn to rain? Nope, nothing of the kind. Great, huge snow clusters is what we got. Stunningly beautiful, and helping to build the snowpack on the roofs of our two garden sheds in the backyard to a height respectably similar to every other winter we've experienced. It isn't the snowiest winter we've had by any means, however.

Out in the ravine there was little evidence of wind, and it was comfortably mild. Vision was somewhat occluded by the heavenly transformation of the landscape into one of those fanciful little snow globes that transfix children. When it snows like this the sky has a metallic cast; it resembles aluminum or pewter in colour, but is actually reflective of what the ground looks like; a chalky white shade. 

In between the white ceiling and even whiter 'floor' there is the atmosphere itself looking as though someone has draped a giant white veil over the landscape, shortening down sightlines and emphasizing the fairytale aspect of a winter forest. Strangely enough, despite the mild temperature, the exquisite beauty of the landscape, the excellent footing, few others were out in the forest as we were.

Utter serenity prevailed, a hushed quiet over everything. Jackie and Jillie still found ample enticements through messages left by other dogs alongside the trails that kept them focused first on one side of the trail, then the other. Slender twigs had come down from the weight of the snow on the trees, and they're like irresistible candies strewn about for two little dogs that fancy them as chew-treats.

Evergreen boughs hung low with the burden of snow, its quality more wet than lofty. From time to time a section of accumulated snow would plop away from an overburdened branch; fine as long as we weren't under it. The milder weather is bringing squirrels out of their semi-hibernation. This morning our resident pair of cardinals were singing in the backyard, their brilliant crimson feathers stark against the white sky.