It's arrived, the first official day of summer, 2015. Although we have long since enjoyed our post-breakfast ramble in the gardens as a delightful gift to ourselves, the months ahead promise ample opportunity for surprises and much gardening gratification.

It never ceases to surprise, these leisurely garden strolls, for what can be noticed on any given day that wasn't there in quite the same presentation the day before.

My husband is forever marvelling at the incredible restorative powers of nature. Spring regeneration always takes us by surprise in the most positive of ways. Everything looks miserably drab and unproductive once the snow has melted and the garden is exposed. Here and there tiny spears of green begin to appear and early spring-blooming bulbs exercise their options, exciting us to admiration.

It takes a while for the gradual rebirth to begin in earnest, and the yawning, empty space of the gardens looking sad in their bleakness of appearance find their echo in our yearning to see everything fill out and present in robust bloom. That time has come; there isn't a spare inch left in the garden. Everything is thriving, the living architecture of the garden in full sway.

And garden succession is well underway. The first bloomers have faded, giving way to those impatient to take their place. No more lilies of the valley in bloom, no bleeding hearts, the irises have finished, the rhododendrons as well as the magnolias and the mountain bluet, to name a few.

Succeeding them have been the poppies, the lilies, clematis, peonies, bellflowers and roses. The Ladies Mantle has its own peculiar blooms, as did the Japanese spurge.

Everything presents as a treat for our eyes. In the morning foliage is often jewelled with radiant dew drops from the overnight temperature inversion if not from overnight rain, catching the sun and sparkling with colour.

Jack and Jill enjoy accompanying us; they know the difference between the backyard and the front gardens; both experientially and verbally. When we invite them to come along they rush to join us, and agreeably return with the reverse invitation.

They too are ardent gardeners, having cleverly learned to dig up violets, exposing the roots which seem to appeal to them as especial delicacies.