Here we are, in the 'dog days of summer', the period of summer with the hottest days. When we're cautioned to take shelter from the sun; at the very least, minimize direct exposure. This year once we rounded the corner into July we found ourselves mired in a long spate of successive 30C days, days that reached 31C well before noon, and then just lingered. It's why we've been taking Jackie and Jillie out for their daily rambles in the ravine in early morning, before breakfast.

Any later, and the heat packs enough of a punch to take its physical toll on them. We wouldn't dare venture out on a long hike through forest trails now without hauling along a water bottle. Not for us mind, but for them. They're not entirely without enough energy to sprint after squirrels injudicious enough to cross their path, but uncharacteristically they will often walk in a docile manner quite unlike their usual selves, after us, rather than trotting way ahead of us as they're most wont to do.

 The forest vegetation looks exhausted in some areas. Some plants like jewelweed begin to droop and shrivel; certainly they're not producing flowers but for a few exceptions. On the other hand, spring's inordinate inundations of rain gave such a boost to fruit-bearing shrubs and trees that apples, raspberries and other berries and fruits have been ripening despite the current drought.

We used to see the occasional American bittersweet vine here and there along the trails. For some reason perhaps known to botanists, but not to us, they've become a rare sight. Yesterday, though, in a tangle of vegetation on the forest floor, I espied a shaft of sunlight hitting a bright red object and there saw a vine not clambering up a tree trunk and hanging on branches, but caught within the grasp of other more dominant vegetation.

We did have a two-day break from the heat when the temperature rose only to 27 or 26C accompanied by a really quite refreshing breeze. On one of those days we even ventured out for our hike in the woods in the early afternoon, and the wind was so brisk it kept mosquitoes away and felt quite unsummer-like. And the bliss of the evening coolness was quite wonderful. Our wide-open bedroom windows emitted a cooling breeze that gave us a comfortable rest.

That cooler temperature gave me the opportunity to do a little work in the garden. Among which was the planting of another Hibiscus shrub my husband had surprised me with, because they happened to be on sale. I dug deep and it wasn't hard in the loamy soil of the garden. Sprinkled the hole well with bonemeal/bloodmeal, watered it all down well, removed the bush from its plastic container and carefully tucked it into the hole, watered again, shifted the soil back around the shrub, and then watered again. It's blooming happily.

But the lack of rain and the bright sun even filtering through the crabapple trees, the large magnolia and the false weeping cypress continues to heat up all the plants, requiring a sharp eye for anything drying out, particularly some of the more vulnerable garden pots. One I had overlooked was in parlous condition, but placing it in the shade and ensuring it was kept damp has renewed the plants that looked as though they were prepared to perish. I had cut them back, and hoped for the best, and was nicely rewarded.