We were in need of rain and nature obliged yesterday. From dawn to mid-afternoon the rainclouds dumped their excess of moisture onto our landscape, and it was impressive on a number of counts. Not the least of which was the inundation's generous amount, leading to a sumptuous display of intense colour in the gardens with everything drenched and somewhat drooping, but the intensity of colour well magnified in the process.

It was far too hot and humid for us to wear raingear since the heat of the day before's 30.4-C temperature lingered with a vengeance. We knew our ravine walk would be replete with hungry mosquitoes, but neither of us used a pesticide; I covered up with a white light cotton pant-and-jacket set I'd bought almost 30 years ago at a flea market in Tokyo and that helped. Mosquitoes tend to zero in on my tender flesh, giving my husband and little Riley a bit of a pass.

The creek was swiftly running, muddy and as unattractive as it generally appears. Still, we were grateful for a lift in the rain, though we took along umbrellas just in case, though never needing them in the hour and more we were out.

The rain, and today's partial sun has given an extra incentive to the gardens and they're flourishing. The peonies have set their flower heads, the Heucheras their floral sprays, the bleeding hearts, phlox, bearded and Siberian irises, Cranesbill geranium and Mountain Bluet are in bloom.

Columbine and Ladies Mantle, in the rock garden at the sun-side of the house are ready to burst into bloom.

Everything is healthy and thriving. The climbing and shrub roses have set their buds and will present their usual spectacular show, as will the rhododendrons. The tomato vines have begun flowering nicely and we will expect a modest crop in the late summer.

The clematis vines are beginning to bud even as they climb and I've noticed a Morning Glory has reseeded itself at the bottom of the rock garden.

The splendid proliferation of our favourite garden plant, the varied and fascinating hostas, is in full flush.

The only bit of a sour note in the garden this year appears to be the hydrangea shrubs, for no matter where they appear in numerous places in the gardens, they have been stunted, there's die-back and they look quite miserable.

On the positive side, however, is the fact that yesterday I was able to snip ample amounts of parsley and chives to enliven the potato salad I prepared for dinner.