Well, golly gee, another snowstorm! They're coming at us fast and furious this winter. Seems to be a trade-off; we haven't yet had any daytime highs of -20C, which we often 'enjoy' in the deepest days of winter in this region. In exchange for mild temperatures -- like today's 04C, we're the recipient of more snow. We're still anticipating that when all the environment-atmospheric numbers are crunched once winter's done with, we'll be ending up having had no more snow than usual for any given winter.

 

We woke to a dark morning today, but brightened it considerably with luscious melon, banana and French toast. which typifies most Sunday breakfasts. A little bit of backyard shovelling, just to anchor ourselves properly in the day, and then a brief consultation over a dinner menu. Weekends tend to see us favouring soups in the winter. And last night was no exception. Somehow, cold and snow seem well suited to piping hot, flavourful soups.

 

There were no pauses whatever in today's snow. It simply trickled down evenly all day. There was wind in the morning, but it subsided by afternoon when we chose to gear ourselves up for a ravine hike. The magic icing of snow lavishing itself over the environment in a scintillating gleam of perfection is utterly mesmerizing. The trees crowding the forest festooned with snow transform the landscape to the appearance of an outdoor cathedral.

Not for Jackie and Jillie, they take it all in stride, revelling in the soft powdery surface the forest floor has been transformed to. We glide, slide and stride after them, but they're in an excited state of freedom to roam, and roam they do, pausing now and again to catch up on the neighbourhood news, both intent on sniffing the aromatic clues left behind by other dogs.

 

The water in the creek has not yet frozen over this winter, and it won't, unless we do get a spate of uninterrupted extremely cold days and nights. Even the Rideau Canal has not yet opened for skating; about as late as it gets in any winter season. The creek is dark and still, as we pass over the first of the series of bridges and begin to climb the first hill that presents the most difficulty in ascending. 

 

Jackie and Jillie leap up well before we do, to access the ridge, and they wait for us to join them, scoping out the ridges beyond and the valleys between for signs of the presence of others, through giveaway movement. With an effort we finally make the top and find relief on the plateau where we can lope along flapping our boots through the new snow settling into place.

 

We hear crows far off in the distant skies circling over the forest canopy, all the while snow falling steadily, and look up into the trees hoping this will be the day we see an owl looking down at us in that quizzical manner they have; mostly barred owls visit the forest and we see them for the most part when they're nesting, in the spring.

There's a couple snowshoeing, and we pass a few pleasantries with them, another young man with a young female huskie, happy to see other dogs and people, everyone enchanted with the landscape, the contours of billowy snow, the air thick with more and the snow-filled clouds continually shedding more.