Surely the responsible natural agent for the early appearance of wildflower perennials is the copious amounts of rain we've been exposed to this spring and early summer. Likely more than compensating for the relative dearth of snow this past winter to accompany the excruciating cold which was itself excessive. What else would account for the incredibly early bloom of the Queen Anne's Lace, the Viper's Buglos, the Black-eyed Susan already in evidence along the highways' green corridors?

Not complaining by any means, simply observing. Yesterday, a really lovely, moderate-temperature day with episodes of sun and shade, we went along to Perth for their annual antique show after our usual trail hike in our street-adjacent ravine. It's held at the Ottawa Valley town's Legion Hall, sitting at the side of the Tay River, in a lovely parkland setting with huge old maples, sentries to the present, remnants of a past age.

There we meandered into the building where we were welcomed with our two over-the-shoulder bags in which sat Jack and Jill, not quite yet accustomed to the indignity of being carried along wherever we happen to venture in an indoors setting where quadrupeds are not normally welcome. Again, we came across a dealer whose wares were quite extraordinary to see in such a countrified setting. He asked how we were enjoying the item we'd bought from him last year at the show.

From there we went along to the outdoors to see what other vendors setting up their stalls on the grassy meadow-like area beyond the building had for sale, and unlike last year, we were rewarded with the presence of ample intriguing objects, among them early Canadian paintings, irresistible for someone like my husband.

We met up with and chatted with people whom we've seen there in previous years, mostly shop-talk in the sense of discussions about the state of valuation of Canadian paintings, other shows and the interest evinced by the public, which is often fairly pathetic with respect to art and heritage and the history of the country's settlement.

Although as the day wore on the atmosphere began feeling hotter, the nice breeze coming off the river alleviated the heat, and made for an infinitely pleasant stroll among the booths. People there, the locals, are genial and forthcoming; the interest evinced in the presence of Jack and Jill was constant and they themselves, little black furry tykes, appreciated recognition of their status as extraordinarily appealing little creatures.

Whenever we do happen to drive through Perth, and it isn't often, we are struck by the attractiveness of the town, the venerable landscape, the old stone residences whose appearance is so breathtakingly beautiful to us. One of the vendors at the show who lives nearby informed us that he lives in one of those old stone homes, a farmhouse nearby Perth, and the never-ending demands of upkeep and the inconvenience of some of the heritage attributes makes life living there somewhat less than ideal.

But he's committed to it, and manages to put up with the upkeep expenses and the inconvenience because after all, who isn't exposed to those irritating measures of reality in any sphere of life wherever they happen to live?