An unexpected snow day was what yesterday turned out to be. The forecast was for light snow amounting to no more than 2 cm. What happened instead was an all-day snow event. We're tough, we can take it. Aside from the fact that it was a mild day, a beautiful late winter day and the snowfall was gentle, though persistent throughout the day.  It just didn't stop, and that wasn't consonant with the forecast.

I was still fast asleep when Irving slipped out of bed, got dressed and went out to shovel out the backyard pathways for Jackie and Jillie, and then do the same for the front of the house. When he was finished and prepared to go back into the house, Jackie and Jillie were there, waiting at the sliding glass doors for him to let them out into the backyard. When they all came back upstairs to the bedroom I was still asleep.

But the snow had finally stopped, and we were in for a beautiful day. The sun began to emerge to set fire to the snow, gleaming and glinting under its glare.

Yesterday evening, we thought it might be a good idea to use up what was left of a container of 35% whipping cream before its 'best before' date, to accompany the chocolate brownies I had baked for dessert. Although the brownies were richly chocolate they weren't sweet, and whipped cream dolloped on top had its appeal. The added bonus was that this morning at breakfast, Irving used the last of it to top off his coffee. 

The sun played peek-a-boo with us all day. The temperature had fallen to an acceptable -2.5C, and a brisk wind had come up by the time we felt prepared to get out for a prolonged hike through these newly-wintered woods so readily accessible and awaiting our arrival. The street snow plow was just going down the street as we happened to be going up.

It's a huge, ungainly looking apparatus, resembling to us nothing so much as a giant praying mantis. The front half looks as though it's ready to keel over. The operator gave us a friendly wave, as we stood waiting inside a neighbour's driveway to safely let it pass. Jackie and Jillie emitting growls of suspicion all the while.

Things have changed enormously from when we first began our daily meandering in the ravine decades ago. At that time, it took a week after a fresh snowfall before the trails reached the condition we now find them in mere hours after the snow has stopped. Years ago we would either break trail ourselves, or use the extremely narrow initial trail left by someone else before us having broken trail.

Now, so many people in the wider community use the trails -- mostly as a result of the pandemic lockdowns and people looking for something to do with themselves other than remain locked into their homes and going slightly stir-crazy -- we're always assured that the main forest trails at least would be in fair condition and less exhausting to negotiate.

During the winter months with the copious amounts of snow that fall in this region, beautiful snowbound winter scenes are guaranteed. They represent unforgettable encounters with nature. Something one never tires of. Something that, despite seeing them year after year, snowfall after snowfall, never grows stale. One doesn't become accustomed and bored with exquisite beauty. It will always take one's breath away.