The sky hasn't yet opened to rain in this area, and the ground is getting fairly parched. In the ravine, we can see cracks forming on the forest floor for want of rain. In the garden, the soil is looking compacted and dry. Where the sky has hosted a plenitude of clouds they haven't borne any water. We've enjoyed wide blue skies alternating with a counterpoint of blue-and-white, wispy clouds streaking across the sky, and even silver-grey clouds that merely scud along, barely interrupting the sun. 

Yesterday evening, before dusk fell the sky presented as a bright landscape of pink clouds reflecting the setting sun. Clouds illuminated in soft pink, looking good enough to eat. Supposedly that could be interpreted as a message that the following day would be quite as beautiful as the days preceding it as in the old sailor's ditty "red sky at night sailor's delight, red sky in the morning, sailors take warning".

This afternoon, as we made our way up the street to access the ravine and the forest below, the sky looked promising for rain but the sun would have none of it, busily burning through the clouds to remain ascendant for the day. The best of all possible scenarios, of course, is for a sunny day, submitting to a rainy evening and rain to fall through the night.

I had earlier planted a few more ornamental plants in t he garden. And watered the gardens and the pots. An endless demand on the part of the flowers, but quite necessary if we're to enjoy the fruits of our labour in ever-blooming plants throughout the summer months. The end result is the pleasure we take in seeing the garden mature and the plants comfortable enough to award us with colour and texture in our micro landscape of a garden.

In the ravine, despite the lack of rain, everything is alight with bright green. Last year the wild apple trees bore little fruit, and that was unusual. The blossoms had been nipped by a late frost. And it looks as though the very same thing will happen again this year. Though we looked for them, we saw few apple blossoms. May had some very warm days, but there was also a string of frosty nights and it seems that has affected the apple trees again.

Area soft-berry farmers look at their dismal plants with dismay. There two, the neat arrays of strawberries which should have been flowering will now never fruit. They too suffered from those nights of late-spring frost which will result in a wholesale loss for the fruit farmers.

Our tramp through the woods this afternoon came complete with numerous occasions to stop and talk with old acquaintances. There was also more than a few new faces on the trails, including their companion dogs, so Jackie and Jillie had ample opportunity to stop and commune, too. Most of the large dogs had been in the creek and were dripping wet, a lovely cool-off for them on a 28-C day. Ameliorated by a constant stiff breeze. 

For the first time ever in this forest, though we've seen them on occasion in other forests, we came across a surprise clump of wild columbine. It would have been easy not to notice them, growing on the bank of the creek, but Irving's eye just happened to glimpse pale blossoms and brought them to my attention. So I manoeuvred myself into position on the slope and took a few photographs.

At home, we poked about in the garden again, admiring the blooming clematis packed with blooms and the newly planted hibiscus plants. There are birds everywhere flitting about in the gardens. While I was watering in t he back, Irving cleaned the birdbath and re-filled it; a hot day and though birds could make their way to the forest creek, they're looking for respite from the heat wherever they can find it.