But there's still snow around, right? he asked. Well, at the time we spoke last night there was still snow around. And we had seen ski tracks through the ravine trails earlier in the week when there was a new richness of fallen snow. That was before we fell into a spate of unseasonably mild weather conditions The result of which has been evidenced by the swift rush of cold runoff in the forest creek the last several days. 

The winter snowpack had begun, and it was fairly thick, despite snow events intersected with full days of rain, leaving the trails in the ravine a mess of uneven ice conditions from melted snow and night-time freeze-ups. It's quite possible that by the time he arrives in less than two weeks there will be a fresh build-up of snow and he'll be able to slip out of the house as the mood takes him to do a little skiing.

We wee inordinately busy today, even for  cleaning-day Monday. And it's been a superb day, one that somehow got confused and wandered over from late September to insert itself in mid-December. An afternoon high of 7C, that's not bad. All the more so with an ocean of blue above, along with a happily beaming sun. All of which is making quick work of the snow in the backyard.

And, as we discovered when we left the house just before four this afternoon, doing the same in spades in the forest. One positive thing; the ascents and descents are far less hair-raising than they were yesterday. The hard icy, dentilated surface of the  forest floor's generous trail system called upon due care to be exercised to avoid falls and subsequent lumps and bruises. Even the comforter of snow available to cushion such falls has become a thin layer of hard snow on the surface.

Dusk was already creeping into the forest interior as we entered and we knew it wouldn't take long before everything turned pretty dark. We weren't concerned over waning vision but the potential for the returned coyotes to begin evincing their presence. In lieu of keeping Jackie and Jillie on leash we nagged them to stay with us as we made our way gingerly over the ice.

But it was nowhere close to yesterday's experience. At 7C, the stiffness had departed and in its place was icy surfaces halfway between slippery and semi-melting. Feeling our cleats bite into the snow is very reassuring. Speaking of cleats, someone else has evidently lost one; we passed a lone cleat set hanging from a tree branch. Likely to be recovered tomorrow when that someone returns for a daily limb-stretch.

We planned on a quick hike given the lateness of the afternoon but that plan went out the window when we came across friends on two different occasions and somehow the intention to avoid oncoming darkness was set aside when we found it impossible to break away from earnest conversations with others just having to get things off their minds and well aired.

By the time we had completed a relatively short trail circuit dark had descended, though looking off to the distance, the setting sun could be seen to cast a pink glow over distant tree tops. And the moon was resplendent in its silvery-bright shimmer through the forest canopy. Once night had completely fallen there would still be ample light from the moon as well as light refracted from the bright lights of the city lighting up the sky, making its way to bounce off the snow cover on the forest floor for which the end result is an overall internal glow of mauve and pink. A strange light condition that allows perfect vision and perspective.

But we continued on our way, ascending the last long hill to street level, stopped briefly to check the group mailbox, then toddled down the street to our house, on the way passing neighbours' Christmas decorated lawns.