Never a more perfect time for a stroll in the gardens, we thought to ourselves this morning, and then expressing that mutual thought, off we set, leaving the breakfast dishes sitting on the table, slipping out the patio doors from the breakfast room to the deck and from there, down to the backyard gardens.

A lovely, cool morning with the bluest of skies above, the sun sharpening its rays to their fiercest plant-enhancing nourishment, we sauntered about remarking on what was new and developing and what was regretfully past maturity.  Riley, who was basking in the sun's warmth before the heat of the day descends, trotted along behind us, keeping his opinion to himself.

There is colour everywhere we look, and shades of green from lime to deep emerald, nature's sigh of summertime contentment.

As we stroll about, we automatically check the potted miniature gardens for moisture content, note which plants could use a little snip here and there, and those that could use the assistance of a tie-up.  We spend far more time ambling about exclaiming at the unexpected than we actually imagine.  And, in fact, it's difficult often to tear ourselves away.