In some places in Canada the saying is, don't like the weather, wait a few minutes, it'll change. That happens, it really does. Here in the nation's capital weather is infamously changeable. Take yesterday for example -- though it's hard to say why anyone would want to -- we were quite uncomfortable with a windy day where the warmest part of the day, mid-afternoon, clocked in at -15C.  It didn't keep us from going off for our usual spin through the forest trails with Jackie and Jillie, but it did make that hour a trifle less enjoyable for all of us.

Today, another day, another story. We had some light snow twinkling through the atmosphere early in the day but as has become strangely 'normal' this winter of 21-22, not much fell, more than about 3 cm altogether. But it fell on a balmy day that rose to 0C, with a pleasant breeze. What was a biting wind yesterday became a tame breeze today, given the difference in temperatures.

So we didn't have to bundle up as we did yesterday in too many layers to feel truly 'free' moving our limbs in the icy atmosphere. The footing on the trails improved with the light new layer of snow, making the trails somewhat less ice-capped. No sign on the forest canopy of the new snow that had fallen though, since the wind had whipped it off the trees.

The creek at the ravine bottom that was in the process of freezing over tight enough to catch new snow is now running freely again. Yesterday's icy surface has become today's free-running water rushing downstream, a mini-maelstrom of release. 

Back in mid-fall, someone with a puckish sense of humour had hung two frail little brightly painted 'houses' on tree branches, astride a little-used side-trail that can be seen from a main trail where they briefly join. It has thus far withstood gale-force winds, heavy snow, sleet and freezing rain with no ill effects. No one lives in them, they're strictly there for bemusement, lacking bottoms. But they do bring a smile to one's face.

On the main trail Jackie and Jillie became somewhat agitated at a sight that offended their sense of the fitness of things. Several adults and a passel of young children in colourful winter gear, chatting as only children's shrill voices manage to reverberate through the frozen woods were approaching full-thrust toward us. What, no dogs? Jackie and Jillie gave full throat to their amazement.

Taking her cue from Jillie's coat and harness, one little girl asked 'is she a girl'? The answer to that of course is yes, she certainly is, but she's a bad little girl, barking her fool little head off. The adults laughed, the children nodded, knowing all about bad little girls.

It felt perfectly fine to admire the woods as we strode the pathways leading off to other trails. The rigid contrast of white-and-dark, a monochromatic landscape of black tree trunks in silhouette against a sweeping white backround of forest floor covered in snow and the sky echoing the snow in low-lying white clouds comprise the winter landscape; never boring, always suffused with subtle changes day-by-day. 

There are some bright splashes of colour in the paper-thin transparency of beech leaves hanging on stubbornly to branches of immature saplings, providing additional interest to the forest winter landscape. Jackie and Jillie are thoroughly familiar with our circuit routes, automatically turning where the trails meet others, veering to correct themselves when they realize that no we're going in this direction on this trail today.

Until we reach the last of the bridges fording the ravine's creek, leading to the last of the hills we'll climb to street level, that brings us eventually back home again. The driveway they turn into won't be mistaken for any other, at any time.