Bilberry creek is nowhere to be seen. We know it's there. The series of bridges fording it are testament to its presence, but all that can be seen now is an endless vista of snow on the forest floor. Before Monday's and then Wednesday's snowstorms hit back-to-back we could see ice forming on the creek, covering more of it daily and finally hardening across the width of the waterway under the influence of the colder temperatures that have arrived in this region.

The snowstorms completed the creek's transition to a mysterious disappearance yearly visited in the forested ravine by covering the ice that caps the creek with a thick layer of snow that no human eye can penetrate. We know it's there but its presence is not to be seen. As the snow settles and hardens we'll see animal tracks.

But it isn't the entire length of the creek that has become invisible under the snow blanket. In one area where there are small rapids a few small open areas remain surrounded by ice and snow. And that's where the woodland animals, we assume, arrive to lap up fresh water. It's also where we're still likely to see robins flitting about. As we did this afternoon, a small group of seven or eight, which rose singly one after another from the open water, to the trees and shrubs leaning above and over the creek.

Today we were presented with a wide open sky of the purest azure, not even a filament of cloud visible, and though a winter cold watch is in effect with sharp winds expected to exacerbate the cold by evening, little wind was present when we were out with Jackie and Jillie. Which was just as well, since the temperature rose for the afternoon high only to -17C, and it felt penetrating.

The puppies moved briskly about, Jackie in particular racing like a little lunatic back and forth. Their tendency is to create a respectable distance between us and then Jackie closes it as he races back and forth from where Jillie stands awaiting our arrival, to where we are, struggling to remain upright in the still-thick and slipperily indented snowpack underfoot.

Other diehard hikers were out with their dogs, large and small, exciting Jackie and Jillie no end to see their familiar friends. About a half-dozen altogether. It's within the realm of possibility that Jackie and Jillie respond feverishly to the arrival of other dogs they know because they also know that Irving will be offering them treats. And if treats are being handed out all around, they know they'll get their share.

I had put on an extra layer under my jacket; a thick mohair cardigan, but even with that the cold had no difficulty penetrating my jacket to search out my undefended flesh. By the time we prepared to leave the ravine and access the level of the street, my nose was attempting to convince me it felt like parting company with my face. The temperature tonight is expected to plunge to -27C, but we don't tend to spend much time in the winter out-of-doors at night; we'll be snug and warm at home in front of the raging fireplace, Jackie and Jillie quietly dozing.