We took a 'day off' today. Because Monday was a public holiday we knew shopping would be crowded, so we put off the grocery shopping for tomorrow morning. Slept in late, and enjoyed it. Yet another beautiful day beckoned. We took our time with everything; a contrast to yesterday when my 84-year-old husband decided he would change the tires in his car. He discovered a slow leak in one of the tires, so decided he'd finally change over the tires from winter ice tires to all-weather. Of course he wouldn't tell me of his intentions. Finally he decided it was too much of a physical effort and called a gentleman who works for the RCMP in their garage, and comes to people's houses on request to do this kind of work. Mohindar gave us his name and telephone number.

And yesterday was house-cleaning day for me, so it took me hours of furniture dusting, dry-mopping the floors, vacuuming the rugs and washing the floors. And then of course, patient Jackie and Jillie, knowing all the 'finished-up' signals, get excited and race around in their way of communicating to us: 'Hey! it's time for our hike through the forest'! And we did that, but felt a bit fatigued after all of that. Good thing our evenings are nice and quiet.

Today, though, was our day of rest. And we began the 'rest' part by sitting out in the backyard with Jackie and Jillie, enjoying the sun and the wind. Earlier in the morning when we were having our late breakfast there was a rainburst after the sky was suddenly overwhelmed with dark clouds. The rain came pelting down and it was a  huge relief, since it meant we wouldn't have to water the gardens after all. Natural irrigation is just so much more effective.

While we were out, I raked up the soil in several parts of the back garden and sowed some Cosmos seeds. After I had first shovelled some really rich compost out of what was left in one of our two backyard compost bins to make certain the seeds would get a good start on life. And I did the same with the pots that I had reserved for nasturtiums. These aren't really pots; they're long rectangular 'boxes', two of poured cement ('stone') and two of red clay. There were a few more sprinkles but they didn't amount to anything.

We looked about at the gardens, the two little hibiscus shrubs just planted, the huge flowers still ornamenting the magnolia tree in the back, much smaller than the one at the front of the house, and later to flower. The begonias that had been planted in the backyard garden pots look ravishingly beautiful, multi-petalled and brightly coloured. Our garden cup runneth over.

The time did come, however, for a ravine hike, and off we went, the wind blowing us up the street toward the ravine entrance. Plenty to see in the forest, too. If you know where to look. Or if you're curious and interested enough to look to begin with. We finally noticed that Virginia creeper (also called Engleman ivy) has begun growing in the forest again, its distinctive palmate foliage and twining habit distinguishing its presence. A lot more ornamental than the dog-strangling vine that has entered the forest the past few years.

There are some people we may come across from time to time whom Jackie and Jillie memorialize as worth cultivating. They may see them as seldom as once in a six-month period but they will never forget that the individual carries treats and generously doles them out. Irving does the same, from time to time, a gesture much appreciated by treat-happy dogs. Irving pointed out to me the presence of a pair of Phoebes (flycatcher avian family), nesting again under one of the bridges.

The forest lilies-of-the-valley are now seriously in bloom. Easy to understand how anyone would pass right by them without noticing their presence, though. They are so minuscule, the tiny floral wands so dainty, unless the eye catches on them and thinks about what is being seen, there is a tendency to be oblivious to their presence. 

On one turn of one of the trails there was foliage that looked familiar and made me think of  henbane, but I felt it was yet much too early for the plant to be flowering. All in good time, everything in the order of precedence from early spring to mid-spring, then late spring. There are now no trout lilies to be seen in flower, nor trilliums. The jack-in-the-pulpits are still hanging in, but they won't be, for much longer. While those in our garden will remain in evidence for far longer; hard to miss those, they grow to giant size.

As we neared the creek again, coming to the end of our regular hiking circuit, while Irving was talking with some people, I meandered along the creek bank, and noticed a clump of vegetation that seemed to have some pale-looking blooms held aloft, sighted from a distance. So I moved in, carefully approaching the slanted bank that had been shored up with rocks when rehabilitation of the hillsides and creek had taken place years ago after a spring slump, and immediately recognized them as henbane. A member of the nightshade family. Beautiful little daisy-like flowers, smaller, the petals closer together. They start out bright pink, then turn a much lighter shade of pink. And every part of the lovely plant is toxic. 

Back home again, we wandered a bit through the front garden, and sat briefly to enjoy its presence. The tree peony with its large lush blooms offset by the purple-blooming alliums beside it make a perfect little tableau. And behind the pink-blooming peony is the emerging blooms of my most favourite clematis, with its large double-blue petals, utterly charming. A charmed day, actually.