It's a start, by no means impressive, but delighting me no end nonetheless. That I was able -- thanks to the extremely clement weather blessing the Ottawa Valley with warmth, sun and rain in appreciable amounts to enable me to begin the planting process for another spring, anticipating ongoing summer viewing pleasure -- to commence with the annual planting.

The gardens look raw and sere; those perennials that have begun their entrance into spring in preparation for a long, hot summer (dare we hope!) have hardly made an impression yet on the gardens. Each time I see a newly-appearing bit of green I exult, knowing that yet another plant made it through our extraordinarily long, frigid, harsh winter. Viewed overall, the gardens are nothing yet to celebrate, but they will reach that point and then it will all be taken for granted.

Yesterday it was windy as well as warm and with sunny intervals. So I took an inventory of the annual plants and flowers we've accumulated over the past week with the intention of planting them at the first opportunity, taking into account type, colour, anticipated growth, texture and how best to mingle or maintain them separately for maximum effect. I've been doing this for so long it's not a chore by any means, but a pleasure that can be expedited on the basis of familiarity.

In several hours' time I was able to effectively plant all of the garden pots and urns at the front of the house; the back will wait for another opportunity, most likely this coming week-end. My husband had many errands to run and drove out several times to dispatch them, each time returning with another choice group of flowers, until I finally convinced him we'd be running out of planting room. The last time he drove out he returned with yet another hanging basket; large and lush with mature flowers, a treat for flower-hungry eyes.

While I was planting, little Riley made himself comfortable sitting about and reclining in the sun or shade, whatever he was inclined to, sporadically. The birds and squirrels who regularly arrive at the feeding stations we've had out since winter more or less ignore him and he returns the compliment. All the slate-backed juncos that had found our seed offerings extremely attractive have now moved on, replaced by a more rare species in these parts; white-crowned sparrows, much bolder than the juncos, happy to take temporary possession of what the earlier migrants had enjoyed.

Squirrels continued to accommodate themselves to my near presence. Two tiny red squirrels in particular seemed to just find me invisible as they went about selecting nuts for their snacking appetite. One little fellow at one point decided to lecture me on squirrel-people etiquette and I had to remind him that I too live here.