Heading out to the ravine for our daily tramps through the forest has become a lot more complicated lately. The spontaneity of collar, harness and leash and off-we-go was strictly summer mode. As summer waned and fall entered, there were subtle changes; light little sweaters for all of us, including Jackie and Jillie when the ambient temperature began to bite a bit. As the days grew progressively cooler, the quality of those sweaters changed to counter the cool nip. Now that it's quite cold, early-winter gear has become necessary. 

 

And although it took an unusual length of time this year for snow to arrive, it finally did, yesterday, a cheering sight, illuminating the seasonal gloom of the forest, covering leaf-bare branches with glittering new snow, that fairy-tale aspect that forests take on in winter. With temperatures of -2C, and snow on the ground, Jackie and Jillie had their little rubber boots added to the snow-proof winter jackets. They didn't mind, they gamboled like little lambs off-trail in the forest interior.

 

Today, it's a lot milder, even though snow fell again, most of the day. The mild temperature (2C), changed the character of the snow from light and fluffy to damp and heavy. Yesterday when we ventured out we hadn't come across too many people, but they, like us, took special care on the hillsides of the ravine, finding it fairly slippery and unwilling to sprawl on the forest floor. It does take away some of the enjoyment of plodding through snow when you're not footsure.

Because it was milder today Jackie and Jillie had no need of their boots, but we pulled cleats securely over the soles of our boots to regain that footsure balance. We no longer needed to walk with such care, but the snow, because it was damp, clumped thickly underfoot so that at times it took a real physical effort to pull our boots clear of the snowpack. 

Even without boots today, Jackie and Jillie were delighted with the snow, leaping happily about everywhere. They discover unending opportunities to sniff strange (or familiar) new odours that intrigue them no end; at times it seems as though they share their thoughts, one possibly asking the other what they made of any particular 'fragrance'.

 

Today we only came across two other people on the trails with their pet companions. One of whom we were familiar with, the other not. Yesterday we'd come across a woman from the wider community who was uncertain where she was, which trail network she should be on, to return her to be able to access her street, so we did a little trail orienteering for her. Her rambunctious little scamp of a dog was having the time of its life, running challenging rings around our two.

Finally, on the last third of our circuit, snow started up again, falling in little clusters, the wind picking them up and sending them in an almost horizontal direction. Last night, Irving had gone out at midnight to shovel the accumulation in the backyard, clearing off the deck and the stairs and clearing away some of the sidewalk trails we have installed in the backyard, so Jackie and Jillie would have less to contend with in the morning.

 

As a result of the snow continuing all night, however, since I was downstairs before Irving, putting the finishing touches on breakfast, I took a break before he came downstairs and repeated his effort of the night before. And then invited Jackie and Jillie to join me out in the backyard, once they had finished their breakfast.

When they were months-old puppies they used to go a little berserk with joy in the winter, chasing one another endlessly around the backyard, standing on their hind legs and boxing, teasing one another from one end of the backyard to the other. On occasion they do that also in the house, in an excess of happiness or when they're anticipating an imminent mealtime. They've more latterly added chasing the rabbits that come about in the backyard, and intently sniffing the ground where presumably they've last been. We suspect they have little nests under the garden sheds.