Our phenomenal summer-like weather is continuing, yet another day of unobstructed sun brightening spring's sere landscape, with light breezes and a high of 22C. The kind of weather that, following hard on a week of extreme cold and an ice storm, makes you want to pinch yourself in disbelief. It's even too hot for Jackie and Jillie to splay out on the deck floorboards for any length of time. They do that briefly, then succumb to the heat by looking for the coolest spot in the house immediately afterward. 

We went out with them into the backyard to stroll about, assessing winter damage and spring's surprises And we were surprised. Earlier than I can recall, scilla are beginning to bloom. And though there was no sign of them yesterday, today's perusal revealed irises coming up.

We ventured out earlier than usual for our ravine hike and it was quick work to get ready. Jackie and Jillie only need their collars, harnesses and little rubber boots now, and we our boots and cleats in readiness for those parts of the forest still locked in snow and ice. And since we can no longer take our usual route we anticipated coming across some areas we haven't visited in quite a while, knowing there would still be snow there and ice.

It took little time for us to see coltsfoot beginning to bloom down by the banks of the creek, their brilliant yellow heads poking up out of the leaf mass piled thickly on the forest floor. We were surprised at the suddenness of their appearance. But then we also came across hazelnut shrubs dripping with catkins, another surprise.

We were doing an old familiar route in reverse, with a few sidetrails. And I became disoriented, hardly recognizing where we were. Good thing Irving knew. Much of the forest floor, now released from snow and ice, is deep in muck. The cleats on our boots serve the purpose both on snow and ice and on muck, to keep us from slithering where we don't really want to go. Jackie and Jillie were happy and excited because the hike was different, out of routine in compensation for being forced to abandon our usual route. Anything different arouses their interest.

And although they didn't notice, we did, as we entered the last phase of our new circuit that kept us out in the ravine for two hours; the presence of a pair of old friends, male and female Mallard ducks that return every spring for a brief hiatus before flying on to their summer destination. They were placidly swimming in place close to an area of rapids, the female dabbling for food, the male seemingly imperturbable, soaking up the sun.