I wasn't terribly concerned about the wax begonias I had planted last week in the garden, as a preliminary to the season's annual plantings, because they're fairly hardy. The temperature began dropping precipitously last night, and we knew there would be frost. So we took in the large hanging basket and left it sitting in the garage, and threw a few sheets of plastic over the area where we've stored the annuals until seriously planting can commence.

This morning, it was still cold, but at least the sun was out. The hanging basket was replaced out-of-doors to take advantage of the bright sunny, albeit cold day, and the plastic covering the assorted plants was peeled back, but left in place, anchored by a few bricks, because there will be even deeper frost tonight before we return in succeeding days to more reasonable weather. There's a reason why the cautious and experienced wait at least until May24 before they begin their spring planting.

This day was not destined to warm up at all. And with the cooler temperature came a brisk, icy wind. Thank heavens for the loyalty of the sun and a clear blue sky. I'm still busy doing spring cleaning, so cleaned some windows today and washed the floors in the basement rooms.

Because it's so cold I decided to prepare a stew for dinner tonight. I thought a coleslaw, though, would nicely accompany the stew, along with freshly-baked dinner rolls. This time I grated the cabbage, added carrot and a crisp apple, and just a small amount of Vidalia onion. It's certainly a change from last night's dinner, a salad and potato latkes.

It was still fairly early by the time I finished and gathered Jackie and Jillie for their afternoon hike through the forest. The routine is that they walk up the street on leash and as soon as we enter the path taking us to the forest they go off leash and they're free to wander about, though they don't tend to wander out of sight.

It felt icy cold, but because of the sun the atmosphere was rescued from unpleasantness. We saw no one at all out this afternoon. We came across the Mallard drake again, seated comfortably on a flat rock protruding in the centre of the creek that has been considerably lowered in volume this week, a reflection of new dry conditions prevailing in the forest. 

The leafy canopy of the forest trees is fairly well restored to its summer fullness. The foliage is bright and beautiful, the tender new leaves blowing in the constant wind riffling them mercilessly. Out there on the trails it occurred to me that this was one of those surprise days when gloves might have been appreciated.

As we carried on, it has become evident that we won't be enjoying the sight of the bright red trilliums for too much longer; they're beginning to fade. And when they fade entirely to become a fond memory of spring's generous spirit, it will be the appearance of the woodlands' Jack-in-the-Pulpits turn to dominate the garden that is the forest floor.

In our own garden, the tiny bright blue heads of forget-me-nots are taking over from the scilla and grape hyacinths, their presence almost universal in the various garden beds. And just as they have a tendency to proliferate, so do the woodland violets whose flowering season this is, too. As well, our myriad hostas and heuchera are beginning to flaunt their presence. The hostas die down to the ground throughout the winter months but the heucheras manage to defy snow and ice, remaining semi-intact through winter. They make excellent planting companions.