Soon after breakfast, while the sun was behind clouds and a cooling breeze tempered the early heat of yet another humid and hot day, Irving decided the time was right to get out with the mower and shear the front lawn. These are the hot and heavy-breathing days of deep summer when it's wise to pick your time to do these outdoor chores with a view to taking advantage of time of day and circumstances to avoid discomfort. Before he even started he faced the prospect of pulling out crabgrass that has invaded the grass. 

 

 

But the job got done, and looks quite good, even though we knew the evenness of the green plush carpet would last no longer than a day. And then he turned his attention to the weeds growing by the curbside on the inner portion to the road. He detests the sloppy look of weeds taking over, some of them growing to surprising heights, so the hoe comes in handy before the broom helps to sweep it all into compost.

 

 

In the backyard, new succession perennials are beginning to bloom; yellow loosestrife for one, though I haven't encouraged it. I planted it aeons ago and haven't been too pleased with the results, but it finds space for itself among the lilies and the geraniums against the back fence. And now that Mountain Bluet has exhausted its bloom period, Monarda is taking over. Both plants' flowers are quite unlike those of other, more common flowering plants. Their profiles are quite different; the radiant red petals of Monarda (or Bees Balm as many people are more familiar with) are spiky in appearance, lacking the soft rounded look of most petals.

 

 

Eventually we got around to taking Jackie and Jillie out for their afternoon ravine hike. They followed me repeatedly as I made a number of excursions out to the gardens, for little touch-up occupations from weeding to snipping spent flower heads, and staking up vines. The clematis vines growing along one side of the fence have all been bequeathed their own stakes, and now the emerging vines of Morning Glories are desperately looking about for their own. Having a vinyl fence replace the old decrepit wooden one has complicated the ease with which vines could attach themselves to the yielding wood. 

 

In the ravine we found instant relief from the heat, a kindly breeze cooling us initially. But of course any energy expenditure on these hot and humid days quickly dissipates the cooling effect as heat sets back in. So we took our time. On the forest periphery we saw a colony of campanula in flower, very beautiful spikes of bell-like purple flowers.

 

Always on the lookout for what happens to be in bloom we saw winterberry, Queen Anne's lace, Black-eyed Susans and cinquefoil, all making their summer appearance among the still-blooming clover, fleabane, daisies and buttercups. Not to the mention the flower panicles of the Elderberry trees whose heady fragrance continues to waft through the forest.

 

As we felt the heat returning to our bodies, so too did Jackie and Jillie, although their enthusiasm for the forest  hike barely becomes less evident. It seems that the closer we reach to the conclusion of the circuit, including the short ones that we've been favouring during this heat wave, the quicker and more purposeful their gait.

 

But then, we're home again, and looking about at the gardens, as we prepared to leave the heat behind us and take shelter in the house. Which to Jackie and Jillie translates as garden salad treat time, and that's my first order of business on re-entering the house; preparing their fresh, crisp little salads, as a post-hike, pre-dinner treat.