So then, there's a reason that ants seem to swarm around and on peony flower buds and blossoms. It's called mutualism. On the part of the flower the mutual affect is simply advantageous, and not deliberate while on the part of the ants there is also ample temporary advantage as a food source, and quite deliberate. The ants eat a kind of nectar that the peonies produce when flowering, located on the underside of the flower. And to protect their food source they ensure that no other insects are permitted to intrude. That benefits the peonies from predation just as the ants are benefited by the peonies' production of a substance called nectaries.

We learn something new every day. I had long noticed, as anyone would, the presence of ants on peony blooms, but never thought to discover the reason for their presence, simply accepting that when I saw one I would see the other. Everything in nature has a purpose. And this time of spring nature has purposed roses, peonies and cranesbill geraniums and some types of clematis vines all to begin their blooms, just as rhododendrons do as well toward the end of spring, edging into summer.

And with summer's approach comes a more intense sun, and the heat that accompanies it. Persuading us to once again head out for an early morning, pre-breakfast stroll through the forest trails we're fortunate enough to access so easily from our home. Unlike yesterday's excursion when we discovered that many other people obeyed the same impulse, to get out early before the afternoon heat arrived in full force, today, an even hotter day, brought few people out.

A dry heat, to be sure, so it was at that time of morning fairly tolerable. All the more so that there was a good bit of wind whipping up a cooling breeze, mitigating the heat to a degree. And even more so as we entered the ravine under the canopy of the forest trees, green and dense with this year's foliage.
Just on the cusp of the forest where thimbleberry shrubs have matured in record time this year, their bright pink blossoms punctuate the overwhelming green of the landscape.

At that time of day, the forest interior viewed from its upper level descending into the ravine, has a dark aspect given the position of the morning sun. Dark and cool and inviting. A few colonies of fungi have appeared here and there close to the trails. Yesterday as we exited the ravine after our circuit approaching the backyard of the last house on the street adjacent the ravine entrance, a good-size garter snake slithered across the trail and into the neighbour's backyard. She would no doubt be happier if one of the forest rabbits took up habitat in her backyard.

Later, after breakfast, I decided to bake a batch of butter tarts for a change. As a tart form I use an extra-large cup-size muffin tin, lining each of the cups with paper liners to make it easier to withdraw the baked tarts. They're so simple to make and a wicked pleasure to eat, they're worth the little bother it takes. In all likelihood it's making the crust that would deter many people from the effort, but it's easier done than thought about. I added chopped pecans to the raisin filling consisting of butter, brown sugar, cornsyrup, vanilla and eggs, and what could be simpler?

Later, the puppies accompanied me to the backyard to help me take a daily inventory of the drama and colour unfolding there. I've been on the lookout for the dreaded presence of Japanese beetles which have been arriving in droves the past few years, feasting on our roses and our poor Corkscrew Hazel tree, quite devastating it. None yet in sight, and we hope that something has interfered with their return this year, and that we may never see them again. These infestations seem to go in cycles.

Much, much too hot to sit out on the deck and relax there. And the next several days are slated to be even hotter though Sunday's heat is supposed to be accompanied by rain, a boon for the landscape. These truly are shaping up to be the lazy, hazy days of summer.