It makes sense when we're feeling constrained, cooped up, unable to go places, knowing that there's danger lurking everywhere, with a human-destructive virus of as-yet-fully-unknown capabilities on the loose with no medical safeguard against its predations yet available, that we look to other means to try to cheer ourselves up. One of those distractions is, of course, food and its presentation and meals that can give comfort.

Yesterday was fish day in this family. We chose haddock, breaded it lightly, seasoned it and laid it in an olive-oil primed casserole to bake. And I had pre-cooked a few white potatoes then grated them along with raw onion to stir-fry both together in hot olive oil, salt and pepper. I prepared a fresh vegetable salad with bell pepper, avocado, carrot, tomatoes, snow peas and carrots; colourful and nutritious, finishing the meal off with clementine segments.

This morning I used a 600-gram vacuum-packed frozen bag of mixed berries -- blueberries, blackberries, raspberries and strawberries as a filling for a lattice-topped fruit pie. I prepare the filling by mixing 2/3 cup sugar with 3 tablespoons of cornstarch, adding 1/3 cup of cranberry juice, then simmering that with the fruit until I've got a nice, thick filling. Add 2 tablespoons butter and a squirt of brandy flavouring, mix and cool it, pile it into a pie crust, arrange the lattice top and bake for about 30 minutes at 350 F. Dessert for this evening's meal.

Jackie and Jillie seemed a little perturbed today. As though they sense something not quite right. Not entirely surprising. I wouldn't doubt at all they've become aware of an underlying sombre state of mind in the family. These are so far beyond normal times it's not quite possible to describe what has been happening, here, there and everywhere.

The world has turned in upon itself. Sheltering from a bioweaponized virus that is stalking humanity. Human beings who tend to congregate in like-minded groups, to search out one another's company are advised strictly to avoid doing that; our gregarious natures are being denied. The world community that had so recently applauded growing globalization in trade, tourism, sharing of science, has become a threat. Countries that shopped out their manufacturing to a region of the world where wages were low, with a huge workforce that produced salable products the world wanted to buy inexpensively now find themselves at an impasse.

China, where the coronavirus that now threatens humankind emerged, has the manufacturing capacity to provide newly-suffering nations with the medical equipment and the drugs needed in a world over-dependent on cheap labour resulting in profitable incomes, yet finding itself unable to cope with a health emergency because of low stocks of necessary hospital equipment and drugs, cornered by China.

Our response to Jackie and Jillie was an invitation to head outside. We are among the fortunate few who have only to walk a few hundred yards to access a natural environment where we can lose ourselves in the familiar pleasurable comfort of ambling through forest trails, and seldom encounter anyone else. This has been an overcast day, with rain throughout the night before and into the morning hours. The rain stopped, more or less in the early afternoon.

Not quite stopped, but became less evident, in a light drizzle. And it was in a light drizzle that we made our way into the ravine and chose variant trails for our daily ramble. This is a time when, if old acquaintances are seen in a distance, no one makes an effort to meet up; instead waves of sad acknowledgement take place and even at a far distance one can imagine the thoughts running through others' minds.

If and when we do approach fairly closely on trails -- careful to maintain a safe distance the while -- brief, desultory, half-hearted conversations take place at a physical remove. One strains to hear what another is saying. Efforts are made, that fail, to inject a light-hearted note. The situation is simply far too grim. And we smile that forced smile, bid one another adieu, wish them a safe and secure passage back home, and carry on.

The rain was light enough so it didn't bother us. Jackie and Jillie wore their raincoats. There's always much for them to do, even on their retractable leashes, ripping about here and there. On occasion they'll espie movement or hear another dog on another trail, out of sight, above where we happen to be at the moment, or down below, when we gain the heights ourselves.

These little outdoor respites are vital for our sense of self and happiness, though both are in short supply at this time with the world struggling to make sense of a nightmare that just doesn't want to end, one that, we are led to believe, has only just begun....