We got a little carried away earlier in the week on a visit to a plant nursery when the sight of beautiful mature perennials on sale late in the season gripped us, propelling a take-home of six pots that would have to be planted sometime soon. Yesterday the process began, making room in an already overcrowded garden for new specimens. Two hibiscus shrubs and two rose-of-Sharon, a pot bursting with echincea and another, more modest one of dianthus.

 

 

To make room for some of our choices we stringently thinned out an old hydrangea that had spread its roots to take over a much larger part of the garden than it was meant to, originally. A lot of muscle power, digging and rooting about in the soil was required to accomplish that, and I was happy to have the help of my masculine counterpart. I love it when we work together. And Jackie and Jillie finally have learned -- to a degree -- to behave themselves if they want to be outside at the front of the house with us.

 

 

Irving decided after breakfast that he would plant the specimens that hadn't been put into the soil yesterday. So I went out with him, and together we got the job done. Not quite as easy as simply digging holes and planting our treasures. We found a trench in the garden where we had cleared away part of the hydrangea. And since we had several bags of potting soil sitting in the garden shed out back, they were used to fill in and amend the soil.

 

 

When a proper depth was reached in which to seat each of the plants, in went a half cupful of  bonemeal and over it lots of fresh water. Once the water settled, we placed each plant and filled the area around them with soil, tamped them down, and admired our handiwork. Finally, we got the job done. By then the sun had moved directly overhead and it seemed pretty hot though it was a relatively cool day. In fact, yet another perfect late summer day.

 

Later, in the ravine, we realized that wasps had gathered. They were everywhere, competing with the bees, seeking out nectar and pollen on the ample wildflowers blooming throughout the pollinating meadow and alongside the forest creek. Usually we see a few bees on single plants. But on and around a type of aster that is the last to bloom of the various types and when it does it's completely covered with a multitude of tiny flowers, there was a veritable platoon of wasps.

 

We noted a half-consumed wild apple on one of the trails. All around the half-eaten apple were tiny bits of the red apple peel; clearly discarded by a discriminating squirrel that preferred the apple flesh unadulterated by peel. And on the discarded apple, flesh half upward, was a wasp obviously delighted to find such an available source of sweet treat.

 

All the flying insects were viewed with disinterest by Jackie and Jillie, as long as we were out in the forest. Any flies or other flying insects that happen to make their way into the house, however, are cause for alarm. We try to dispatch them as and if we can; the best way is if they linger on the screen to the sliding doors and we can usher them outside. Jackie and Jillie try to leap up to where they sit on the screen or on the glass, in a hysterical effort of elimination. It's worse if a fly appears in our bedroom at bedtime; Jackie is slightly disconcerted, but Jillie becomes frightened and runs off.

 

 

Just as well none of the wasps lingered on either of them. We did find one on Irving's sleeve. It  happened he was wearing a bright red hoodie, and likely the colour attracted the wasp, just as the red peel of the apple might have done. They can certainly be a nuisance. They're more persistent than bees. Bees would never try to appropriate a sweet beverage or piece of fruit someone happens to be enjoying out on a patio; wasps do that.

 

The fresh air, the ambient warmth, the bright light of the afternoon sun, the beautiful wildflowers, all slow down our perambulation, as we stop to point things out to one another, and Irving invariably picks ripe thimbleberries and blackberries for Jackie and Jillie. They've learned to be ultra-attentive to what is happening on shrubs their sharp little noses recognize for the fragrance of sweet ripe berries.