Once again, frost last night, a little deeper than the night before. So, since I forgot to take in the hanging basket and cover the yet-to-be-planted annuals against the frost, I went out at midnight last night to do it, which was when I remembered. Frost over, not to return until September/October? Nope. More of it tonight, but that should do it, for now. I'll try to remember to protect everything before bedtime tonight.

Actually, this afternoon after our ravine ramble, we decided to return and look about for more pot fillers. And while we were there, we bought annual garden soil in bags, prepared with peat moss and aged fertilizer that we would normally mix up ourselves. There was even more annuals available this time, and Cleroux wasn't busy, for a change. So we brought home more treasures, and possibly on Saturday I can get a start on filling up the garden urns and pots. Exciting!

Yesterday's cole slaw that I prepared with Vidalia onion (just a tad), and an apple grated into the cabbage and carrot turned out very piquant, a perfect accompaniment with the beef stew I had cooked for dinner. I had also baked whole-wheat dinner rolls to go with the stew because Irving enjoys dipping soft warm bread into stew gravy. And we had fresh figs for dessert. A cool-weather dinner because it really was cool yesterday.

Neither Jackie nor Jillie felt top-notch last night. It was time for them to have their Heartworm medication, and the day previous they had the tick medication, and it might have been a good idea to spread them over a longer period between each. Jillie threw up last night, and this morning Jackie refused his breakfast. Thankfully, by the time we returned from our afternoon hike through the forest trails today, they were both expectant for a salad.

There's so much to see these days in the forest. The trout lilies have finished flowering, but the trilliums are still going strong. Every time I see a trillium or a Jack-in-the-Pulpit I have an urge to photograph them. Their bloom time is so looked forward to in the spring and they bloom for such a short period, they've got to be  appreciated in that brief time.

As has been usual lately, the Mallard drake was in the creek at the bottom of the ravine, where he tends to pose himself for naps on a flat, mid-stream rock. It's quietly serene, the sound of the water trickling downstream, birdsong, and the wind soughing through the new foliage all lend an air of peace and beauty. A landscape tailor-made so thoughtfully by nature for ducks and hikers.

I had wondered, on the approach to the forest meadow whether the tomatillo plant that had borne fruit last summer/fall would reassert itself again. What could be more mysterious than to find a fruit-bearing plant cultivated in Mexico in an urban forest in Ottawa? Well, there it was, the plant overcame our harsh winter and it looks green, healthy and flourishing. I'll look forward to seeing its lovely little flowers in mid-summer.

 

I've only just realized that the strange flowering plants several feet in height with tiny clusters of white flowers represent a colonizing invasive plant, one that poses a threat, given its easy adjustment to growing conditions in the forest enabling it to flourish, known to squeeze out native plants like trilliums and trout lilies. At the base of the pollinating meadow close to the creek there's quite a crop of these garlic mustard plants.

I watched as a bee flitted from flower to flower on the plants and thought of the ensuing honey that would result from the hive cooperative honey production. It's why bee-keepers are so anxious to place their hives in landscapes of sweet perennial wildflowers, hoping that species like the garlic mustard won't be in evidence to destroy the familiar integrity of the finished product beloved the world over.