Our November early-gathered snowpack, now long gone, had lain heavily over everything in the backyard for about a month. Now that it's all melted, we can see all the perennials in the garden have been muted, defeated for the duration of the winter months until spring's arrival. All, that is, but for my kitchen-garden luxurious patch of parsley. It's green and vigorous looking again. This morning, Irving brought in a clutch of parsley that we can have fresh with our chicken soup at dinnertime.

Yesterday morning some snow had fallen, in several light-fluff episodes, but enough to sparsely cover everything. It made quite a difference in the 'lightness of being'; brightening everything, even lending the appearance of more light than there actually was. Today it's all melted once again and the dull, drab appearance of a landscape awaiting imminent winter has returned.

I couldn't decide what to bake for tonight's desert, but finally thought an apple pie would do. It's one of Irving's favourite desserts, I don't make it all that often and so I proceeded. I used six medium-sized Royal Gala apples, coring, slicing, but not peeling the skin. Then, mixing together sugar, cornstarch and a little water, I gently simmered the apples until they were soft. That stage was done while we were having our breakfast: Melon, banana, and oatmeal cereal this morning, along with tea and coffee.

 

 

When the apples had cooked I added a lump of butter, sprinkled in cinnamon and returned the lid to the pot. By the time I was ready to bake the pie, the apples had cooled considerably. That's when I added raisins and cut up crystallized ginger to add to the mix. Then it was time to make the pie dough, and from then, it was quick and easy work to pop the pie into my little countertop convection oven.

We both had plenty of things to do around the house, so it wasn't until half-past three that we thought we'd better take ourselves and Jackie and Jillie off to the ravine. Jackie had stood beside me at the kitchen counter while I cut up the apples. He's an inveterate fruit lover and although he had his breakfast and a half scrambled egg afterward he still wanted little pieces of apple. Jillie's more of a vegetable lover, though she'll usually eat anything, like a little goat.

 

These are heavily overcast, mild and damp days, so that by the time three in the afternoon rolls around, dusk has already poked its presence into the scene. When we left the house it was already getting dark. Once we were in the forest it was obvious that by the time we completed our circuit through the trails we'd be in complete darkness. In fact, it was already becoming dark when we entered the ravine and it became swiftly, progressively darker with each minute that passed. Dark enough that my sturdy little camera, a Nikon model that has all kinds of photographic-style choices, balked. Each of the photos I shot unusable.

That will change when snow eventually arrives; the brightness of the white presence of snow makes all the difference in the amount of ambient light available to the lens of our eyes as well as the lens of the camera.