We slipped out briefly late yesterday afternoon to drop by an area plant nursery to pick up a few pot fillers. Irving waited in the truck with Jackie and Jillie, and I wandered the rows of offerings, unimpeded by the presence of many other garden plant seekers and it was just as well since between rows there wasn't much room to negotiate space. 

So much of the vegetation was in pretty iffy condition, badly in need of watering. That doesn't do much to inspire confidence in the product. They did have some irresistible plants, though, some that I hadn't already been able to access, so I stayed and looked around and ended up with a few additional items like wave petunias and New Guinea impatiens, a mature hosta whose colour variations I couldn't resist, and a couple of immature and lovely hibiscus shrubs that had set buds, a few of which were in delightful bloom.

And today would be the day I would complete the planting of the garden pots. Just to tuck in a few fillers in the already-planted urns and pots in the front garden, but my attention would be to the back garden whose pots had just been filled with fresh soil yesterday. 

First things first, though. We were into yet another hot, steamy day, so first thing after getting up Irving suggested we might consider having our ravine hike before breakfast and since we all thought that was a really good idea, that's just what we did. Evidently Lyme Disease diagnoses is increasing in this area, year over year. It's the time of year when black-legged ticks (deer ticks) are about, easy to pick up.

We hadn't given it much thought, actually, since we always dress sensibly, seeing that our arms and legs are lightly covered for optimum protection from all pests, and Jackie and Jillie are given medication against ticks through the summer months. People we pass on the trails invariably wear tennis shoes and socks and shorts, with bare legs, bare arms. Even long-time hikers leave themselves exposed. The symptoms of Lyme Disease are pretty awful, but everyone's mind lingers on COVID-19.

At that time of the morning, between 8 and 9, it tends to be on the cool side, the heat of the day hasn't yet had a chance to gain momentum, and with a light breeze it's extremely comfortable. The bright green of the new forest foliage confers an aura of coolness, as it shelters us from the searing sun. We took our time, enjoying the atmosphere and the landscape as we always do. Stopping on occasion to chat with someone we hadn't seen in ages.

And pleased to come across honeysuckle in the forest understory, already in bloom. And in another area of the forest, spring phlox in bloom. Our garden phlox won't be ready to bloom until mid-to-late summer. We're really awestruck over the efficiency of nature. From early spring when everything looks so barren, desiccated and grey, to the present where green has returned in lush plenty, the transformation seems so remarkably swift.

 

And it's no different in the garden. It looked so incredibly dismal, bare and miserable two months ago when the ground was finally defrosting and tentative little green shoots began popping out of the garden. Now, our 30-year-old tree peony is in full bloom, surprising us as it does every year.