Nothing quite as invigorating and certain to fully introduce you to the day than getting out before breakfast to begin shovelling newfallen snow. The storm was by no means over, but there we were, braving the cold and the wind and clearing away snow for Jackie and Jillie to be comfortable in the backyard. Before we began Jillie slipped under the deck to do her business. Jackie obviously thought why bother...he was satisfied with using the deck.

Snow began about midnight last night, continued all night and came to an abrupt end as noon approached. There were bursts of snow pellets, with Jackie and Jillie coming back into the house like little black-and-white polka-dot puppies, and there were wild swirls of fine snow blown about by the wind almost completely obliterating vision. At one point the snow was falling lightly and we thought it was petering out. Then it reconsidered and heavy snow ensued. Then, nothing.

A much colder day than yesterday's 3C, today's afternoon high was -6C with a cutting wind. Occasional bursts of wind drew curtains of snow off the roof. Yet, once the snow stopped it took no time at all before the clouds cleared out and blue sky entered bringing with it a blazing winter sun. And that's quite a combination; a new thick layer of fresh snow with an incandescent sun beaming down on the snow. Eye-watering to say the very least.

Snug in the house, with bright snow-and-sun, cold and wind outdoors, the kitchen called to me. I had bought a basket of nectarines that looked sumptuous but weren't ripe enough, so I decided to bake a nectarine-ginger pie for tonight's dessert. The steps required really take little time, all the more so when you're organized, and after all these years, I am that, at the very least.

And I came up with a new way to dress salmon for yesterday's dinner. Irving is always a bit fussy about salmon, but he really enjoyed it this time. I mixed together panko, olive oil, pepper, Parmesan cheese and garlic powder and pressed it as a coating on the salmon side, then baked it. I had spread lemon juice on the raw salmon first, and all the seasonings blended really well. I'll repeat this, it was so good.

The street plow had been by, by the time we went out with Jackie and Jillie in the afternoon, so the snow hillock we have to teeter onto to gain access to the ravine is even higher than previously, but no problem we made our way over and onto the trail. It looked as though all the snow that has melted in the last few days of mild weather has now been renewed. A  bonus is that the fresh snow presents a neat and tidy vision covering all the rude detritus that had begun to work its way toward the snowpack surface joined by more provoked by the wind from the tree canopy.

The creek is no longer running wide and muddy. Still wide but full of sparkling-clear water. Even at -6C, the high for the day, there's no inclination toward the formation of ice and it looks as though this late in the winter season the creek is not at all likely to freeze over this year. 

Some of our furry friends met up with us to politely wait while Irving extracted his cookie pouch and doled out the goodies. They've learned the routine by now; two cookies apiece, then it's time to rejoin their people, and they do. With the new snow blanket, trekking uphill is a one-foot-forward-two-feet backward venture, while on the descents we tend to glide on the soft, powdery surface.

For their part, Jackie and Jillie's enthusiasm has been renewed, as it is any time they encounter something a little different. Their enjoyment of their daily romps through the forest trails is evident, but on those occasions when something has changed, they become excited and began gambolling about like frisky little lambs.

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.