Heavily overcast and windy, at least there was the saving grace of milder temperatures topping at 2C. Which meant in turn that the forest trails of yesterday that were icy strips of challenge to one's balance ascending and descending hills no longer pertained. I could stride along with comfort and security not only on flat areas of the forest, but the hillsides as well.

As assiduously as Jackie and Jillie looked for the presence of some of their acquaintances, none appeared at all. They have a tendency, when we stand on higher ground to look keenly in the direction of the trails leading upward where they often see other dogs mounting the hills, but to no avail yesterday. It seemed we had the ravine to ourselves.

Not that others hadn't been out, for there was ample evidence that other ravine trekkers had forged their way through the trails before us. The imprints of their boots on the newfallen snow delivers its message. We were a bit later than usual yesterday afternoon because I had quite a bit to do around the house and took my time doing it.

For the third morning straight, light snow had fallen overnight and there was a slight layer remaining over the melting snowpack. Whose melt had been suspended, of course, while cooler temperatures below freezing returned, as they tend to do overnight. To the delight of maple syrup entrepreneurs.

This may be spring we've finally embarked upon, and it truly does look like spring in other areas of our geography but not here in the Ottawa Valley. Actually, it is a little unusual for this time of year to continue experiencing this kind of cold and accompanying snow, but not completely. Weather patterns have changed, but aside from that even under 'normal' conditions we're accustomed to erratic and swiftly-changeable systems barrelling into our area. Just more of the same.

We three have been going out on our own, since my husband is still in the recovery stages of his bout with a nasty virus which at first we thought was a chest cold, a type of cold he rarely comes down with. On second thought, assessing the features of his symptoms we feel now that he had caught the flu. We'd taken flu shots late last year against the winter arrival of flu, but this year's strain has been unusual and caught the makers of the vaccine off guard, the result being a mere 10% efficacy. Still, the shot is credited widely with making those symptoms associated with the strain less severe.

It was only when we exited the ravine from our afternoon circuit, and were ambling down the street toward our house that we came across an acquaintance dog. This was Newton, a tiny Yorkie mix who was out with his human, both of whom just happen to live directly beside the ravine entrance, but rarely venture into its confines.

By no means could yesterday qualify as a weather-pleasant day. Having plunged below -12C during the night, freezing temperatures greeted us in the morning. And while we did acquire a passing acquaintance with a peek-a-boo sun by afternoon, those intervals were of short duration  and infrequent, as much as they warm us psychologically when that sun emerges. Happily, though, for the duration of our traipse through the ravine the sun indulged us.

When we embarked on our daily ravine walk at Bilberry Creek Ravine forest, oddly enough the wind followed us, when it usually does not. That, added to the temperature unable to struggle above freezing meant that the trails that the week before were slowly succumbing to a warming atmosphere melting snow and ice and creating a slushy surface, turned hard and icy once again overnight.

So due care in proceeding was required. On my part, at any event; Jackie and Jillie are far less inclined to take care anywhere at any time, and they've been known to come a cropper, as a result. So it was cold, the wind was sharp and penetrating, and uphill clambers were pretty dicey, downhill no less so, but it was still a beautiful day, one when a pause now and again to look around garnered lovely still-lifes, the forest frozen still in winter, the forest floor a mixture of deeply-packed snow and areas where the sun had freed the soil and the woody detritus upon it to shout out 'look at me!', as we passed.

Unusually, we came across quite a few of our ravine-walking acquaintances, out with their companion dogs. Among them Benjie, the Bernese Mountain dog whose back-end resembles a teeter-totter whenever he comes across anyone, anxious to be noticed, petted, remarked upon, a good-natured clown. And then there were the two  Irish Setters, not of the same litter and years apart, the younger of which has a penchant for leaping up on people, and that's what he did with me, my good fortune he did so when I was on a level, non-icy perch.. And Dan with Charlie who had mastered the art of making friends and influencing people long before Benjie had.

Altogether a fine walk on the forest trails for Jackie and Jillie, coming across so many of their friends, affording them the opportunity to disport themselves happily, indulging in a doggy-appropriate level of competitive racing and wrestling.

This morning, bright sunshine. The bellowing wind of yesterday gone. But the temperature dropped to -12C overnight, so it was cold, and still cold when we got up this morning though the temperature had risen to -6C. Quite the contrast from yesterday morning, when it was so dark when dawn broke we thought it was still the middle of the night. And sleet was slanting across the landscape driven by wind.

Not the kind of awakening that instills good feelings for the trajectory of the day. Balanced off nicely by feeling snug and comfortable in your home while the weather rages outside. We thought that the entire day would be dark and dismal. Not helped one bit by high wind, though, once again balanced by a temperate high of 2C.

Still, we were surprised when the sun came out in fits and starts as we saw the dark clouds breaking up here and there with bright blue patches appearing. Motivating our daily walk in the ravine with our two little rascals. Because there were recurring light rain events interspersed between brief periods of sun, we all dressed in raingear.

Jackie and Jillie anxious as usual to be released to the freedom of romping on the forest trails, steadily losing their hard-packed snow and ice layers. It's always a bit of a shock to re-adjust from a perfectly white forest floor to one revealing bright, dark patches of desiccating fall foliage and bright little areas replete with sight of ferns and moss and lichen.

The creek runs steadily these days, rippling with detritus picked up along the way, along with muck from the eroding clay base on which the entire forest sits. Before we know it (hah!) returning great blue herons and dabbling ducks on their way north again will stop briefly in their fly-over and spend a day or so in and around the creek, exciting us no end at sighting them.

The hawks that have returned year after year will make their re-entrance and we'll hear from whistling high above the tree canopy, alerted to their presence, looking up to see them riding on the wind. We've seen and heard young crows mobbing lately in the ravine, and one young fellow has taken turns with a cardinal visiting our home porch railing where leftover toast is crumbled for the squirrels.

Giving Jackie and Jillie something else to get all riled up over, barking furiously the while.

Little wonder, living in a Northern country where the climate is given to extremes and weather can change direction with no warning, we are so focused on our environment. We know that cluck-clucking over nature's tantrums has no influence on her predispositions, but we indulge regardless. As a constant conversation topic there's nothing quite like it.

One of our nephews, travelling from La Belle Province back to his home in Toronto from a business trip, had planned to drop by our house for a few hours on his way back, but given today's weather conditions, he and his wife decided it might be foolish to do anything but drive directly back to Toronto. As it is they'll be battling extremes in wind and sleet and since he has to make an important business meeting this evening, they've little other option.

Snow greeted us this morning, with an inch-and-a-half accumulation in the backyard. Just at the freezing point it will soon melt, and what's coming down is no longer snow but freezing rain. It's the wind that makes things really nasty, and it is destined to become even more so, with Environment Canada forecasting winds up to 90 km/hr for this afternoon.

If I can, I'll try to slip into the ravine for a shortened circuit on the forest trails with Jackie and Jillie in an hour or so, if the rain relents sufficiently. My husband is bound to the house, with a wretched chest cold that has knocked him for a loop the last few days. The virus appears to be going the rounds locally, not unusual for this time of year.

On our circuit yesterday afternoon we encountered only one other person who immediately wanted to know where my husband was. She was out with her happy-go-lucky Golden, Harley (despite her gender) glad to see Jackie and Jillie, and good for a spurt of competitive racing, but far more given to leaping about in what's left of the snow.

Because of the weather uncertainty this past week, people might be less inclined to get out on days like yesterday's and today. Today it's completely dull and overcast, but yesterday as it has been for the past week, the sky has been changeable, with heavy clouds one minute, sun and blue patches another. And that's what it was like yesterday. Today we're definitely in a trough of dominating gloom.

There's always so much for our two little dogs to look forward to, in their traipse through the woods. The prospect is always there that there will be squirrels around and about, and they're always on the lookout for them. When the tiny red squirrel whose home appears to be just where we live comes around for the daily tidbits put out for him, they're on the alert, those two little dogs.

We cannot say the word 'squirrel'. Even if we avoid the word itself, there seems to be something in the intonation of our speech that warns them that we're enjoying the antics of a squirrel somewhere close at hand, and they begin searching out the windows, barking the while. Similar to what happens out in the forest; they're attuned to anything that moves.

Jackie in particular seems to think that there's something quite mysterious about a small animal that has perfected the miracle of disappearing. There one moment, gone the next. Most disconcerting. We happen to be impressed by the speed Jackie and Jillie are able to muster when they're excited and really moving along after anything. But the squirrels have them beat. Once up a tree, they're invisible to them. Though Jillie on occasion spots them treed and looks fairly perplexed.

On yesterday's walk in the woods we came across a surprising number of people out with their dogs. The Golden Doodle that we've been seeing lately on occasion, for one, an irrepressibly joyful and beautiful dog whose enthusiasm matches my memory of what our two were like when they were pups. Its sheer muscular size, however, intimidates Jackie and even sends Jillie for cover.

We came across another fellow we've known for years with his two truly large and muscular Bull Mastiffs; again beautifully conformed creatures, almost regal, and totally disinterested in anything but snuffling about in the woods. And then again, a very young Boston bull terrier that ran helter-skelter for us, leaping at us, begging for attention, a perfect-looking little gentleman with his sleek black attire, sparkling-white socks and neckpiece.

Oh, and a year-and-a-half, lean and lithe German Shepherd, overjoyed to be out in the woods, a newcomer to the ravine, who must have felt he'd discovered the Garden of Eden. He romped and raced about madly in a happily rambunctious spurt after spurt of sparkling energy. To think that most often when we embark on one of our daily tours through the forest we often see no one at all, while yesterday proved to be unusually dog-busy simply tells us 'you never know'.

It is fairly telling of the usefulness of that great international institution, the United Nations, formed to use the weight of its considerable influence and moral power to reduce the chances of violent conflict on the Globe, and to press for human rights for all those resident on Earth, that it consistently singles out one tiny state dedicated to the enduring preservation of a single ethnic-social-religious group dating from obscure antiquity, to hold it accountable to a civilizational norm that no other country is subjected to.

Those nations whose human rights records and system of governance ensures security and equality for those living within their domains are a minority among all the nations of the Earth with an official presence within the United Nations. Yet even those minority Democratic countries do not, with rare exceptions, hesitate to criticize the State of Israel when perceived human rights violations are slanderously emphasized by the Jewish state's many nation-enemies within the Organization of Islamic Cooperation and the Non-Aligned nations.

Yet no other country in the world has ever faced violent disruptions to its presence on its heritage geography, as has Israel. Its neighbours set out time and again to destroy it, to exterminate the organized presence of a Jewish state, and when Israel defended itself and routed combined Arab military assaults, the assault of censure and condemnation and charges of illegitimacy surfaced with a vengeance. On its flanks it continues to guard against ongoing violence targeting its Jewish citizens, forced to assert its military might against ongoing threats.

Now that the terrorist Islamist group Hamas whose charter clearly states its function is to exterminate Israel from the map of the Middle East has once again organized a mass 'protest' with the purpose of destabilizing Israel with threats of conflict shielded by a network of human misery, a condition of life brought about solely by the intransigence of leaders of the Palestinian people, the response to yet another threat has been condemnation of disproportionality by those nations' heads and the UN -- who have never had to live under existential threat.

That Erdogan's Turkey, of all human-rights abusers, has charged Israel with war crimes and its president labelled a terrorist is beyond hypocrisy, but one that the sanctimonious leaders of the world community bar several are quick to pick up, solemnly pressing Israel to restrain its response. Where is the world censure of Erdogan's continued assaults against the Kurds, deprived of their rightful geographic heritage on which squats Turkey, Syria, Iraq and Iran? Turkey's illegal claims of ownership of Cyprus, its challenge to Greece? Its support of fanatical jihadis?

Sri Lanka's denial of Tamil independence? China's claims to areas in the South China sea? China's occupation of Tibet, its suppression of Uighur independence? Russia's Georgia and Ukraine incursions? Annexation of Crimea? The Syrian Regime's slaughter of its citizens? Pakistan's vicious mischief in India, the Kashmir dispute, Afghanistan? Spain's refusal to recognize a separate Catalonia?

Symbolism and social adherence to honour as they view it, is so critical to notions of order in tribal societies yet denial of the traditions and symbols that do honour to others is absent entirely from the minds of those tribal elements that seek to bring dishonour to and reduce the global legitimacy of those they view as rivalling their own.

The conjunction this year of two great religions' penultimate memorials to historical-religious events of paramount importance to each has brought Christianity's Easter and Judaism's Passover to once again sharing the calendar of primal events, each in their own way a story of salvation of humankind.

Just as Islamist Arab armies of conquest marauded several continents through antiquity to the present, on their way to achieving the glory their founder assured them was theirs to the exclusion of all others, so too does the tradition haunt and persecute into submission or exile ancient Christian sects enduring in the cradle of Christianity.

And just as those same Islamist Arab nations abhorring the presence of the predecessor religion and its worshippers attempted fruitlessly, time and again to wrench the heritage presence in Israel's return to Zion as usurpers of land 'consecrated' to Islam, once transgressing on Judaism's most sacred Yom Kippur tradition, so too do their more recent jihadist faithful once again profane the celebration of Judaic deliverance from injustice at Passover with yet another version of jihad.

The relentless ambition remains the same; to wrench geography violently and by manipulation of the responsive subconscious sanctimonious global condemnation from its historical to its current presence from those seeking security and peace, imperilled by the viciously hateful exhortation of a religion's sacred precepts promising deliverance to the faithful and death to the non-believers.