We're now steadily moving into the season where the potential for falls in the ravine grows. It's why, once the snow flies and there's the start of a snow-and-ice ground covering in the forest, we strap on our cleats over our winter boots and from that time forward they're never taken off. They're winter boots reserved for our tramps through the winter woods. We've worn cleats for decades, and still have one of our original pairs. They're built on a kind of stiff rubber platform with straps covering toe and heel, meeting around the ankle. That's what I wore yesterday because our more flexible, completely rubber cleats were soaking to remove spring-mud. We'd forgotten to do that back in the spring.

 

The problem with the rigid sole is that my pronation twists them and that's annoying, because they eventually work their way around the sole of the boot, becoming crooked and inefficient and it's difficult to keep adjusting them while we're all fully dressed out in the woods and have to take off gloves to adjust the things. Today, it was a great relief to wear the flexible pair. As for Irving, he felt the thick tread on his boots alone would do without the cleats yesterday. How wrong he was. Traction was impaired by the conditions, and heading uphill a study in frustration. One of our hiking friends, decades younger than us, was in far worse shape, and actually had to get on his knees at one point to make it uphill.

 

Today we both wore cleats and it made a world of difference. Conditions weren't bad in the ravine. Some of the snow had turned to ice on the forest floor but with the cleats we can stride ahead with full confidence. Full confidence was in short supply for the few people we did come across. Fine on the flat areas over the crest of the hills, but the very devil to negotiate downhill and uphill. People were clinging to tree branches and shrubs for support.

 

It would be a shame, though, to miss going out for our daily jaunts through the forest with Jackie and Jillie. It's an essential part of our lives for all of us to have daily exercise, to breathe in the pure fresh air, to appreciate the landscape around us. Jackie and Jillie derive benefits we'll never know about completely, but it's certain one of those benefits isn't watching us as entertainment as we watch them as they look about for the presence of friends at various levels of the ravine, or become engrossed in compelling odours we'd prefer to avoid close contact with.

 

 

The early morning hours had a brief acquaintanceship with sun, until clouds moved in and the morning became progressively darker. Five to seven centimetres of snow was forecasted for the day.  And what was vaulted above us was most definitely a snow-sky, that very particular pewter-coloured undifferentiated mass of cloud cover waiting for the perfect time to begin dropping its load. That didn't happen while we were out in the ravine.

 

But when our circuit was completed for today and we approached street level, the snow began falling. A serious snow, not so much snowflakes as little snowballs. A factor of the temperature. Although to us it felt very cold, damp and the wind scoured the tree canopy with a hollow moan, the temperature was stuck at freezing. Conditions where the moisture from the clouds could have descended as freezing rain, but compromised with minuscule snowballs. It felt almost like sleet, with the wind and the snow.

So it was nice to get back into our nice warm house. Jackie and Jillie were enthused because they're habituated to enjoying a little salad on our return from the ravine every day. Anticipating their treat they tend to race about the house chasing after one another in an excess of appreciation for what's to come. Today it was yogurt, cucumber, yellow bell pepper and tomatoes. Gone in the wink of an eye.