So, Quebec, Ontario and Alberta have the absolute worst case counts of COVID-19 in the country. Ontario and Quebec are also the most populous provinces in Canada. The case counts in the two coronavirus waves have necessitated strict lockdowns with easing occurring once the case counts diminished. We're heavily into the second wave, and numbers already alarming, are on the rise, faster and more numerous than ever. 

With Christmas fast approaching, the worry is that already soaring case counts will begin to rise even faster, capturing a greater number of people. Governments at all levels have been recommending that this Christmas be a circumspect one, no gatherings as usual of family and friends. But knowing that people will proceed to try to have a Christmas-as-usual, health authorities and hospitals are preparing for an inevitable onslaught. The premier of the province has announced a 21-day lockdown to commence from Boxing Day. Displeasing any number of people.

Most people are diligent about maintaining social distance, about going out only when they have to for minimum exposure and are also fastidious about both hand hygiene and mask-wearing when out in indoor public spaces. Even so, a percentage of the population is resentful of the strictures on their freedom to do and go wherever they wish to. Hostility expressed through Twitter and other social media sites against those we elect to make important decisions for us, along with the authoritative recommendations from top public health officials make little sense.

What makes little sense and serves to inform the majority of Canadians that witless fools live among them is the photographs that appear from time to time in the newspapers of hordes of angry people eschewing masks, gathering in large numbers, holding anti-masking, anti-authority signs, protesting against stern measures and lock-downs, all designed to minimize case loads amid efforts to avoid stress on hospitals. It's beyond puzzling.

On the other hand, there are relaxation techniques that might possibly help people gain perspective, take their minds away from the rages and anger brought on by a strange silent killer that medical science is desperately trying to fully decipher, while the population of mostly elderly within society is being steadily eroded in numbers. That there are vaccines coming on stream, completing their critical third trials is a boon and a hope for the near future, and people are being urged to extend their patience for a little longer, and continue protecting themselves from contracting the virus, at the same time protecting others in the community.

Fresh air, sunshine, green spaces all represent one way that anyone can immerse themselves in a mood-affecting-atmosphere. Or, as some might say, a good way to retain sanity. To focus the mind away from the Damocles sword represented by the virus, to shift it toward the good that we can find in life, among them our natural surroundings, and the serenity and peace they offer.

We never know what we'll see, come across, experience when we set out with our two undisciplined little dogs for lengthy hikes through forest trails. Our immediate goal is simply to relax, to revel in the atmosphere of quiet nature, to admire the landscape, enjoy the opportunity to stretch our limbs, breathe in fresh air and share with one another things that  are different we notice in the environment, from day to day.

Whoops!

Today, as often enough happens, someone we used to see walking a Golden Retriever a decade ago and who stopped coming into the ravine when his companion dog died, recognized us when we were out this afternoon with Jackie and Jillie, though we couldn't quite place him. He knew where we live, and what distinguished our house outwardly from others around it. A mystery to us.

A young man we hadn't seen for some while and who we had become familiar with just in the last year had been absent from the ravine for months, and my husband remarked on it just yesterday. Today, he appeared, smiling and chatty as though there had been no interruption in the time we'd last seen him in early fall. At one juncture we comprised a small cluster of regular trail hikers re-connecting and exchanging news, a pleasant diversion on yet another weather-challenged day when the temperature rose to a balmy 3C, after yesterday's -3C, and performing a first-rate melting job on our newfallen snow.

We had ventured out before four o'clock, after I had finished cleaning the house. We'd had morning sun and then it became heavily overcast, and we were soon enveloped in a really early dusk. It was so dark when we were out on the forest trails it looked more like early evening than late afternoon. Not surprising in the sense that this is the penultimate day before the shortest day of the year.