Irving was up first. I cocked an eye at my bedside clock-radio and turned back over: 7:30 a.m. He just went on, preparing to dress. We had discussed it last night, the day before as well and decided it made sense. We're back to where we were last winter, getting up earlier than we want to, so we can slip out of the house and get our shopping for groceries done before breakfast, just around when the stores open for business.

To avoid the usual crush of shoppers. Bypassing the opportunity for Omicron to victimize us. Last winter most of the supermarkets had announced special morning hours for seniors, from 8:00 to 9:00 a.m. Giving us oldies a break. No such announcements have yet been made; this was before the advent of vaccines, when suddenly the globe was assailed by a hugely infectious virus that little was known about.

Science still doesn't know much about the SARS-CoV-2 virus that causes COVID-19, but the public does have some defences now that weren't available in the first shocking months of its spread, causing havoc, serious illnesses in many and deaths, mostly in elderly populations. We enjoyed a much-needed break during the intervening summer months. We almost felt as though we had returned to life as we know it; all the while the reality of a still-lethal virus hovering in the background.

And then the mutations began here and there, mostly none of any particular note, but some emerging that the World Health Organization considered to be 'strains of concern'. Delta cut a wide swath through hospital admissions and funeral homes and we thought we were facing the worst possible scenario. Until Omicron was identified in South Africa. It took no time at all for that variant to enter Canada and begin proliferating to the point where about 80% of new cases are being identified as Omicron.

It has proven particularly adept at atmospheric infectiousness; its minuscule globular particles drifting through the atmosphere. Ventilation is now more critical than ever before. Getting in and out of enclosed spaces as quickly as feasible, avoiding them if possible, wearing masks, maintaining distancing; we're back to all of that. And for us, back to early morning shopping.

Jackie and Jillie needed no explanation. They're pretty intuitive; they knew immediately we got out of bed something was different. And it took no time at all that they realized they were being left at home alone and we were leaving. Their piteous howling and mewling followed us out the door.

And when we arrived at the supermarket, never all that crowded at the best of times and these aren't the best of times, we discovered to our mild surprise that we weren't the only ones determined to return to an old defensive posture. There were plenty of people in the store, shopping. Mostly older people. They were short cashiers; not everyone has taken to the express do-it-yourself cash-outs. It would take us forever to get all our purchases punched in.

So it was done, we returned home to a pair of joyous little pooches, gave them treats, took our showers, prepared breakfast and everyone relaxed. And then we went out to the ravine for our usual daily hike through the forest. The thermometer read -2.2C, and there was no wind to speak of, but we had missed the sun which had decided to duck back in behind a vast silvery cloud cover for the remainder of the day. Jackie and Jillie were beside themselves with happiness, glad to be out in the snow zipping along the forest trails.

We had the trails, in fact, pretty much to ourselves. And we were surprised at how cold it seemed despite the mild temperature on this first official calendar day of winter. Because it felt so damp which always translates into feeling colder. There's only a few more days to Christmas, so everyone, we assume, who celebrates the day must be frantically shopping. We've already seen advertisements for Boxing Day, before Christmas even has arrived. It's a frenzy we're glad not to be part of.