There is a quite a tall bluff in this area near the Whitby / Oshawa border:

Above the bluffs and in the wind, it felt quite chilly:

But along the lake where there was no wind, I took my jacket off due to the bright, warm sunshine:

A chickadee seemed to recognize me and approached for food:

Other birds:

Some botany:

NATURE POETRY

Thou sing’st alone on the bare wintry bough,
As if Spring with its leaves were around thee now; 
And its voice that was heard in the laughing rill,
And the breeze as it whispered o’er meadow and hill,
Still fell on thine ear, as it murmured along 
To join the sweet tide of thine own gushing song.     – Jones Very (1813–80)

Miles Hearn