For the past few days we've been passing some vegetation whose shape and the curl of its foliage have intrigued me. It was as though the plants, though I puzzled over what they were, were somehow familiar, as though I should know what they were. And yesterday it suddenly struck me. There's a group of them sitting close to the creek by the first bridge we pass, and another now-hefty plant maturing into quite a size some distance away astride one of the hills.

Those growing near the creek have been putting on size at a rapid pace. It bothers me when I can't recall the identity and names of plants I think I should be familiar with. And finally, it dawned. The kind of plant it is best to keep your distance from. It exudes an oily substance that is poisonous, so brushing innocently up against the foliage can produce some pretty nasty effects on the skin.

They're wild parsnip. When mature they send up a spray of 'flowers' that resemble dill. These are not mature yet that will happen later on in the summer, but their stems are robust and pale green, their leaves kind of curly and scalloped. Little wonder I found them familiar looking. They're setting up shop in some areas of the ravine. And now we know, I'll alert others to their presence.

And we also saw the first of the buttercups to flower. Strangely, it was beyond its 'cup' shape and splayed out, but a buttercup it was. More, lots more to come, though I hardly expected any yet, thought it would take another several weeks for them to bloom. What is blooming beautifully now are the many types of dogwood, almost resembling the floral sprays of hydrangea.

And honeysuckle, its deep pink, tiny flowers quite beautiful. This year we've seen only the pink ones, don't know what has happened to the white hydrangeas.

And of course, the phlox, more of that plant's flowers are now opening, and they too are pink, but a softer, less vibrant pink than the honeysuckle.

Then there's that small patch of fungi first noticed several days back. Each succeeding day we've seen that little colony they've moved on to greater maturity. Yesterday they were on the brink of complete collapse; it took only several days from when they first appeared, to reach this point.

The weather was absolutely perfect yesterday. Until evening when rain came tumbling down out of the sky about as heavy as it ever can get. But in the morning we had gone out for our ravine walk under overcast skies and fairly high humidity. We'd gone out earlier than usual with the intention of missing the rain, should it appear earlier in the day than forecasted.

It was 28C again though the humidity made it seem much warmer. Because a good stiff breeze wafted through the forest there was little discomfort, and then weren't we surprised when suddenly out came the sun and out it stayed for the remainder of our walk with Jackie and Jillie.

Inciting us on our return home to remain out-of-doors to enjoy the garden and do a little gardening, beside. Before we reached home, though we had a brief stop to chat with a neighbour who lives directly adjacent the ravine. Which gave Jackie and Jillie the opportunity to nose about sniffing with little Newton, the grasshopper=height little munchkin who lives there.

And then we went home to admire the garden pots and see what has erupted in the garden since last we looked. Last time we looked wasn't very long ago, but it's nothing short of amazing what nature can conjure up in the space of a few hours when all her elements of rain, sun, wind and warmth come together in a collegial atmosphere beloved by all growing things.