There, it's happened again. Up until yesterday we in the Ottawa area were being advised we were on the cusp of slipping out of the orange and into the red zone yet again. Led for the most part by the incursion of a variant version of the novel coronavirus that arose through a mutation that was first detected in the United Kingdom. There are a few other variants, those from Brazil and South Africa that have also barged into this country but not to the extent of the UK variant. Seen mostly in a younger age group, 15 to 35. And it's that variant that is leading this new third wave necessitating another lockdown.

More contagious by far, with heavier loads and apparently, more lethal. So we've now been informed that we're back into lockdown. Which means various things; mostly that people will no longer be able to access places important to their lifestyles that have gone through multiple closures and re-openings. Restaurants, cafes, gyms, will all once again teeter on the edge of profitability. And more of these small local businesses will go out of business, sadly.  'Crowd' control will be re-enacted once again, where supermarkets will operate at 75 percent of capacity and so on.

 

When we were out this afternoon with Jackie and Jillie on another near-spring day of 4C, sun and wind we couldn't help but notice that fewer people strange to the community of regular trail hikers are in evidence. Our mind-calming, entertaining and exercise-pleasant daily circuits through the forest trails have returned. And we just wonder whether, with entrance to another lockdown people in their boredom and restlessness will once again filter in groups back into the ravine.

 

Because it's substantially milder at 4C, and with the added bonus of a mild overnight temperature, the snowpack is fast disappearing. In the ravine there are now bare patches of ground unobstructed by ice and snow. The trails that only a day earlier were glassy-smooth with ice are now completely mushed. In fact they're every bit as slippery in this condition as they were previously.

 

It's just that the slide marks of people losing control of their footing descending and ascending hills is now much more readily discernable in the softened ice-mush than it was when the trail surfaces were completely frozen. And should, theoretically, serve as a heads-up to anyone using those trails. I just managed to save myself from a misstep that would have ended in a fall on a flat portion of trail, as it happened.

 

Irving wasn't quite as fortunate. On the bridges the build-up seasonal snow on their floors is substantial. In the mid-section of the bridge floor the pack is high and solid, falling away on the sides. There's up to a foot differential in height. So an incautious or oblivious step beyond the solid area sends an unwary foot slipping to the side and suddenly balance is compromised. Irving slipped and found himself thudding onto the bridge floor. Falling on snow, even hard snow the shock experienced is from being completely destabilized, more than the impact of the fall. A few aches may result from that fall, but nothing more, thank heavens.

Jackie and Jillie slipped about here and there as well, but nothing they couldn't handle. Boots shift deep into the slush making each step a bit of labour to gain traction. Conditions very familiar to us, since they're the same every year at this time. The creek is running wide, dark and fast, and that will accelerate as the days go on. Less so likely tomorrow, when we'll be back down to 0C, but several days to follow will return us to the pluses again.

 

Walking down our street there's a huge difference in the snowpack on lawns. We estimate that at least fifty percent of the winter snowpack has now melted. So though there seems to be a lot of snow yet to go, go it will, and more expeditiously than it seems possible as we warm up into spring.