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We're slowly opening up under robin's egg skies, and I hope we won't have to close down again. Saturday saw sun, and I biked to my old neighbourhood, the place where I spent much of my twenties. I could have returned my library book to another branch, but why not here? One store had engaged a jazz musician with a soprano sax to play out front. A familiar pub-- or, rather, its patio-- had reopened for the first time in months, and I was able to grab brunch while listening to music. Later, I spoke with the musician, who blew in from a nearby town.

I peddled back through downtown. By the arena I passed a mysterious man in a dark cloak-- but the city core can be a strange place. The usual suspects were about-- the street people, the drummer on the corner, and the group who could finally revisit their favorite pub or, at least, its patio. I biked past a group clad in Hawaiian finery.

Another group checked their cell phones. They wore matching shirts.

An entire family made the scene, parents and children all dressed in black and collars and 1990s Goth lipstick and paint, like some twenty-first century Addams Family.

I finally stopped my bike near the Scooby gang and asked politely if they could give me a clue.

Velma Dinkley explained that they were teams in some sort of virtual mystery, a fictional Ripper-style case with the clues visible on cellphone when the team arrived at a relevant location. The game was running all afternoon locally, and would then move onto a new venue. Group theme and costumes could win them a prize.

With permission, I took some footage of the gang.

Clouds were gathering, and I wanted to make it home. I don't know who won. These have been challenging times, however, and I appreciate the gamers' efforts towards making the world a more pleasantly surreal place.

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