We were almost but not quite in the -20C degree-range last night. By morning the temperature had risen to -12C, just a tad milder than it had been yesterday. But the wind was gone. And to our surprise quite a bit of snow had accumulated overnight. And it kept coming down through breakfast, quickly restoring what Irving had shovelled clean before breakfast to yet another depth.

 

We weren't expecting a snowfall. My theory is that when it's really cold, it seldom snows. So there you are. Just to show that you can't second-guess the weather around here, soon after the snow eventually stopped the sky began to clear and darned if the sun didn't come out beaming happily down at us. 

 

There were some leftover pancakes after breakfast, so I cut them into little squares and Irving put them out for the squirrels. In the intense cold they weren't coming around as much for handouts, preferring to snooze in their nests, and who can blame them? We did the very same thing yesterday, deciding to give our daily forest hike a pass because it was just too cold. Jackie and Jillie were coming into the house one paw after another being lifted, puzzled because their tiny feet were so cold in brief visits to the backyard.

 

The temperature began to rise and before we knew it, we were looking at a -4C afternoon, a clear and appreciated invitation to get out. And we did. And so did a whole lot of other people with their dogs from the surrounding community. People tend to drive over from more distant points to take advantage of the presence of our shared natural landscape.

 

And so we came across a surprising number of people, and even more dogs. Dogs kept coming over to say hello to Irving. Their greeting is typically manifested by a hurried approach -- like at gallop speed -- no human companion yet anywhere in sight, with the dog sitting quietly beside Irving who has stopped and begun rummaging about for his cookie cache. 

 

Jackie's and Jillie's celebrated ruse of pretending hostility to the presence of other dogs works like a charm. Far-off dogs elsewhere on other trails or other parts of the ravine pick up their ears when our two bark, turn to their humans as though to say 'see ya!' and they're gone. Gone over pathways irregular as short-cuts, following the sound and the fragrance of the cookie club.

 

It's fun to watch them; this is very serious business. They negotiate space when more than one or two appear, settle down and patiently wait for the cookies to appear and be apportioned. Thanks, bud. Can we have another? Cookies dispensed and gobbled, back they go; a routine that has become set in stone.

 

Beautiful to see the fresh new snow. The landscape looks fresh and inviting, and somewhat different every time. At home the sun's effect was to persuade the snow to drop off the tree branches. Here, in the forest, the warmth of the sun penetrates minimally, and until there's a good hefty wind being raised, the newfallen snow is content to remain just where it falls.

 

As we pass people we know and briefly acknowledge one another's presence, or stop now and again for a deeper conversation, everyone is smiling. It's Sunday, and what kind of winter leisure could possibly top this? A father, sitting on a toboggan and steering it, his little daughter in front of him, zips down a hill, the child shrieking with pleasure.

 

We got off to an early start with our grocery shopping as usual this morning. Despite which there were more people about shopping in the store than we would have preferred, and the shelves weren't yet adequately stocked. Usually people doing their shopping in this supermarket are restrained and polite, keeping their distance, aware of others and courteous, but we certainly hit the jackpot today encountering uncivil rude people. I don't know how the supermarket staff put up with it.

We're no wiser about the bananas we bought last week, the only young man stocking the vegetables and fruit was unfamiliar to us, and he hadn't heard of anything amiss, though he was anxious to be of help. No question about the bananas today, we had our choice of ripe and ripening bananas to our hearts' content. No more hand-wood-carved bananas for us. In the end, though there were a few items missing because it looked as though some shelves had been swept clear, we had no problem getting everything we set out to acquire for the week.

When we pulled up into our driveway one of the more interesting mysteries in our lives was solved.There was Dan, our next-door neighbour whom we've known for decades, shovel in hand, just finishing up shovelling our walk and porch from yesterday's snow. My husband had been convinced it was Dan to begin with, but I wasn't; he's retired himself, though considerably younger than us, has a bad knee and I had thought it was a neighbour across the street, Melanie, a lot younger and given to snow shovelling at the first hint of snow.

I felt like crying. It's hard to really convey your appreciation for other peoples' thoughtfulness. We're perfectly capable still of doing such things for ourselves. But Dan thought he had seen my husband struggling with the task once and resolved he would do the shovelling himself from this time forward, and wanted us to know that he would be there to help with anything else we needed assistance with. He even told his son Nicholas that when he's out shovelling their own place, to go along and do ours as well. We've been blessed with such good neighbours, Dan among them.

Since this was another 'free' day for me, I decided to bake a small batch of cookies. My husband always loves the simplest cookies his mother used to bake; sugar cookies. I mixed up a batch and added nutmeg this time. Rolled out rounds, and baked sandwich cookies, one thin round atop another with the centre cut out and ladled a dollop of sour cherries between the layers. The fragrance wafting through the house snapped my husband to attention.

It's a pretty mild although overcast day, the temperature soaring to 1C. The trees in the forest are still limned with the snow that fell yesterday and overnight; not much, just enough to make a cheerful statement on the landscape. There were very few strangers about on the trails today which suited us just fine. We did come across quite a number of our old friends, however, and that suited us even better.

There's one woman who lives on a street behind our own, who occasionally brings her two dogs into the forest for hikes, as she did this afternoon. One of the dogs is old, though not elderly, a small furry mop of a dog, with a surprising intelligence and spirit of resourcefulness. The other is barely six months old, a poodle mix, full of energy as only puppies can be. Nemo, the little dog, followed our friend Gary with his three Border Collies up a hill leaving his human and the puppy far behind. We had just descended that hill leading down to the creek.

 Our friend was nonchalant about her little dog off on a tangent. He knows the ravine intimately, and would just go wherever he felt like heading toward. Not the kind of hovering over ours that we're accustomed to. We stood talking with her and another friend for awhile, and then Nemo returned but not to stick around with his human. Instead he accompanied us as we crossed the last bridge and ascended the final hill to take us to street level. Along the way we met up with two of our dearest neighbours.

Nemo calmly carried on, took himself up to the street, then sat and waited. Eventually, as we encountered even more of our neighbours and began a gabfest, Nemo's human arrived with the puppy and Nemo rejoined them and they all made their way up the street, rounding the corner to access their own street, and went home.

We'll be enjoying a warm apple pie for tonight's dessert. That's because we decided to get out earlier to the ravine with Jackie and Jillie than we normally would, after I've finished baking and dinner preparations. And that is because rain was forecasted again for today, after the all-day rain we had yesterday and the gloomy realization that it was too cold to also contend with pouring rain so a hike through the winter woods was out for us yesterday.

Not wanting to risk a repeat, and because after breakfast it hadn't yet begun to rain, off we went. Which meant that on our return I would turn my attention to doing all the baking and cooking. I had, as it happened, already prepared the pie filling; five apples sliced into chunks, 1/2 c.sugar, 2 tbsp.cornstarch, 1/4 cup cranberry juice, cooked and thickened to which I added a half-cup raisins and a tsp. cinnamon and finally slivers of crystallized ginger.

We decided the puppies would need their boots again, since we figured that what was left of the snowpack after the rain would be thoroughly mushed and the high for the day was 2C. But the snow was not the least bit degraded, and nor was that much of it yet melted. The atmosphere was damp but the snowpack was fairly intact. The cleats over our boots sank deep into the snow however as they're meant to do, and the constant sucking effect made for extra labour in hiking along. All the more so in climbing and descent the hills.

Ascending one of the hills to the forest flats above the ravine we came cross an older couple and their two dogs we hadn't before seen in the ravine. The dogs were Portuguese water dogs, one five, the other two years old. The couple was friendly, their dogs were calm, unlike our own. The five year-old had an awkward gait and it was evident what caused it, a huge, wrap-around lipoma that spread from its belly to its right haunch.

It wasn't difficult for us to recognize the condition, since we'd been through it with Riley, our toy apricot poodle, an agonizing affair. Although the lipomas are neutral, harmless fat deposits, not cancerous, they have a tendency to grow, and to keep growing. The first one tiny Riley had was on his side, bulging and disfiguring, and we had it surgically removed when it was the size of a baseball. The second one that followed twisted his gait eventually, growing as did the one we noticed on this young dog's body. It too was removed, and we hated having to put him in surgery. Eventually it too grew back.

This couple told us they'd had a lipoma removed from their dog's belly and this is the second one, that grew back with amazing speed. They hesitated to submit the dog to another surgery and we knew exactly why. Other than the expense, that is; the pain the dog goes through, its recovery and the eventual repeat. They had a sense of humour. We discussed an animal hospital we'd both had experience with, the Alta Vista Animal Hospital, which they had renamed the Alta Visa Animal Hospital. 

We recommended they consider any further surgery they might feel is required for this poor animal to be done at a clinic just over the border into the U.S. at Ogdensburg, New York. The Town & Country Veterinary Clinic where we had Jackie and Jillie's laser neutering surgery done. The personnel are kind and devoted to the animals they serve, the clinic is efficient and clean and well-equipped. And their charges are reasonable, a fraction of the cost of the same surgery done in our own area. They'd heard of the clinic and the quality of the work they do, so we've managed to do one good thing today.

We were out for quite a while; not only does it take longer to forge through the trails in winter snow conditions but coming across the occasional acquaintance means there are times when socializing takes its toll on time, but that's part of the allure of getting out at a time when most people see themselves confined to the indoors as a result of the global pandemic. 

And it was actually wondrously beautiful today in the forest. A mist rose from the creek rushing through the ravine, creating the illusion of a colour-soft landscape. And it wasn't only along the creek where that mist rose, but elsewhere on the trail system, including the  upper spine of the forest, an atmospheric effect beyond romantic.  

Because we hadn't gone out with the puppies yesterday; a break in routine, Jackie was eager to get out today. The sentence containing the word 'out' galvanized him, his mood picked up, he began cavorting about, he communicated his intention to make the most of the opportunity once out on the trails, and so that kind of validation that our daily woodland jaunts enhance the quality of life for all of us simply is the icing on the cake of enjoying life.

And warm apple pie.