I was in a hurry this morning, thinking far less of the dignity of my sartorial state than the practicality of protecting my tender skin from the vampirish activities of the mosquito population now burgeoning in the ravine. It's a lovely warm, but muggy day, with threat of thunderstorms. I had neglected to remind myself that the lightweight, white pants and jacket I pulled on to venture into the ravine this morning would reveal the garish purple of my underpants.

My husband kindly pointed my lapse in attention to display when we were out on the trail. Too late to remedy, and so I was happy enough that this day we did not come across any others enjoying themselves as we were doing.

And enjoy the scenery we did; the apple trees are now in full bloom, and the hawthorns too have begun their bloom. The pin cherry are dangling their little clusters of florets, and the forest floor is littered with blossoming wild strawberries.

And to our especial delight, joining the display of trilliums and trout lilies, the Jack-in-the-Pulpits have now also begun blooming, entire colonies of them where in previous years none had ever evidenced themselves. A yearly renewal, a delight to behold.