It wasn't all that long ago, actually, that we were deep in white-coated winter. As the Earth turns on its axis and brings us closer to our source of life, light and heat, we become gradually immersed in winter's opposite; colour, and warmth, all growing matter exuberantly reclaiming the landscape. We've gone from the white of frozen liquid to rainbow colours emerging from the soil that now captures the liquid that falls from the sky.

 

 

Colour, form and texture bedazzles our eyes and warms our discriminatory aesthetic. Though we love the pristine appearance of a landscape smothered in new-fallen snow, we visually devour that same landscape become brilliantly verdant. And the gardens whose presence could only be assumed layered deep within banks of snow and ice, now presents us with gift after priceless gift.

 

 

The price of which is frequently an endurance test; how hot and humid can the atmosphere become before we begin to groan with discomfort? Well, this morning quite, quite hot and humid. Accompanied by a cooling breeze, the morning was set to present us with an afternoon high temperature of 32C, some chance of rain, but we weren't about to bet on it.

 

Instead, off we went to the ravine to prance through the forest trails with Jackie and Jillie. The rain events of just several days prior soaked the forest floor and intensified the all-encompassing green of the forest crown, but a glance below our boots was sufficient to inform us that cracks in the soil are on the cusp of reappearing, and rain would be appreciated.

 

 

The water level of the creek is quite low, though it still streams nicely along to its final destination miles and miles away. When we started out, once we gained the confines of the forest, shielded by the canopy, the breeze made it seem sublimely comfortable. But the morning was young and rapidly heating up. And as time wore on, and we progressed up hill and down, warmth penetrated and it was soon clear that Jackie and Jillie needed refreshing. There are times when they're simply disinterested when they're offered water, this was not one of them.

 

We diverged a bit toward the last quarter of the circuit, and carried out toward a meadow portion of the forest, and there we saw cowslips, fleabane, and masses of clover in bloom. We also saw what I had identified a few days back in another part of the forest as wild parsnip, and here too there was some growing. It's one of the wild plants that naturalists identify as nasty intruders on the landscape.

 

A tour of the garden was next, on our arrival back home, prior to bursting into the house and showering and having breakfast. Rice pudding that I had set on a slow simmer, with lots of cinnamon and raisins. Following navel orange halved and sectioned and bananas. Jackie and Jillie had their kibble peppered with the cut-up chicken from Friday's soup and a bit of cubed cheddar cheese to enliven their bowl.

 

Before that, we poked about in the garden, appreciating the presence of June's rose-show beginning its premiere performance. Climbing roses in the back garden and the front, and peonies beginning to bloom in the back. All the miniature 'gardens' in the garden pots and urns look fresh and contented with life thus far into the season. The gardens, however, looked peaked given the heat, the sun, the wind and lack of rain. So, after breakfast, that would be the first item scheduled for attention. And then on to the day's house-cleaning, because it's that day again.