Across the depth and the breadth of the world lives have been upended in unexpected ways, ranging from utterly disastrous to coping with inconvenience. Millions of people have been infected by a new, insidiously health-destructive zoonotic, a virus that leaped the species barrier, presumably from bats to an intermediary animal like pangolins -- wild animals on the menu in East Asia -- to humans. This persistent SARS-CoV-2 that causes COVID-19 and erupted in Wuhan, China to swiftly move on to infect people all over the world, has destroyed countless lives.

And in the process completely deranged global normalcy, from the scientific community and health providers, straining medical services, to agricultural output and factory production, international trade
and all indices of global economic and human services provisions. The elderly and the health-impaired whom current societal convention and their families have placed in old-age and long-term care homes have been dying disproportionately to the rest of society, since the virus is particularly fond of the old and infirm.

We're old ourselves, closing in on our mid-80s, but not infirm and living in our own home, able to live as normally as possible under the circumstances. But trepidation over such a viral threat and the sea change in what is now considered to be normal under lockdown to stop the spread of the virus has created a different kind of abnormal among people who are generally well-balanced in their outlook on life. Strangely, shopping for groceries has become a mental and physical ordeal. The most basic of life's preoccupations, eating to sustain life, and foraging through food outlets to stock one's pantry has become problematical.

Distances from other human beings must be maintained. One must be alert not to unnecessarily touch surfaces which can harbour COVID. Hand-washing is not only now as obligatory as it always has been, but absolutely necessary to ensure minimum opportunities for viral transmission. Wearing eyeglasses, facial masks and gloves in public has become an expectation and experience no one might have foreseen.

We now shop biweekly instead of every week, to minimize exposure. That means carefully calibrating the type of food and amount of food, particularly fresh produce that we can eke out over a two-week period to ensure we don't miss out on essential vitamins and minerals, protein, carbohydrates and fats in our daily diet. By the end of the second week our refrigerator is bare. Last night I had a dream that I was frantically trying to prepare to leave the house at the correct time so we could access our shopping opportunity at the allotted time set aside for seniors -- 7:00 a.m. to 8:00.

I have become a trifle paranoid, and the stress shows. We woke just after six and looked after the puppies' needs, then left the house to arrive at our usual supermarket at ten after seven. At that hour there are few others about, and we were able to find everything we needed, particularly fresh fruit and vegetables, dairy products and all else. There were no more than perhaps a dozen other shoppers. The store personnel extremely concerned and helpful. One thing went awfully wrong. I had our face masks in a sealed plastic bag, grabbed it when we left the house, placed it on my lap in the car, and then it disappeared. Actually, yes. It could be found nowhere.

When we returned from shopping to our puppies' great relief, we unpacked everything, cleaned up, then had our showers and prepared breakfast. Tension relieved. Relaxation over breakfast. Then out for a ravine walk through forest trails on a very cool day with a mean wind, alleviated by a perfectly clear sky and sun penetrating the still leafless canopy of the forest. There were plenty of people out, largely on bicycles which can be a problem where the trails are narrow, less of a problem when the main trails are used.

Coltsfoot, the earliest of the spring flowers are now spreading in greater numbers aside the trails. And trout lilies are settling in in wide drifts further into the forest where the sun for the present penetrates nicely, though the flowers haven't yet appeared. The same is true of lilies-of-the=valley. While trilliums are just beginning their presence and perhaps by next week we'll see them in flower. We saw fiddleheads for the first time, making their spring presence, and flitting about on the wind a number of Mourning Cloaks, first of the spring-appearing butterflies.

One of which, quite unusually -- since they're so swift moving on air currents, one moment you see them the next they're gone -- was thoughtful enough to land on the trail just ahead of where we were. I was certain that it would lift off and be speedily gone well before I reached it. Yet there it was, perfectly still, allowing me to photograph it. And when it felt it had given me ample opportunity to take its picture in its kindly pose, off it lifted and quickly disappeared.

And then, another treat; a female Mallard was steaming along the stream at the bottom of the ravine. The male nowhere in sight, but he couldn't have been too far away. Their presence is the reason that we no longer see little-and-larger goldfish (tiny carp) in the stream that had managed to survive several winter seasons since someone or other obviously dumped their aquarium into the water upstream.