With the passing days of summer there are the inevitable subtle changes in the garden. As perennials
enjoy their brief opportunities to flaunt their transitory beauty, others growing alongside reach their maturity just as their garden mates decline. There is never any end of new discoveries.

I have discovered, to my dismay, that one of the native ginger plants that I had transplanted from the ravine had re-established itself after its initial disappearance, and looked to be thriving, but suddenly is once again gone, with the mystery solved in the remaining presence of an almost-nibbled-through leaf, all that remains of the fairly robust new growth from the root that had persevered. I can only hope that spring will see it renew itself.

I've now taken down all but one of those giant sunflowers that had been happy to establish themselves in the various garden beds, from seed residues of winter bird feeding. Their final removal has given free rein to other plants to spread, not feel quite as constricted by the aggressiveness of the sunflower stalks and roots.

Overall, we're immensely pleased with the garden, and there's nothing particularly new about that. We're seldom disappointed in the manner in which all the beds and borders manifest their enthusiasm about spring, summer and fall.

They continue to offer us the eye-stimulating gratefulness to nature in the fullness of the greens and reds, yellows and oranges, blue and purples that create a secret landscape right outside our front door.