Gardenfest

We've been weather-boomeranging of late, from hot and sunny to humid and hot and windy, to cooler and wetter, and everything in between. But it's clear, however relatively late in the season this represents, summer finally decided to move in and to stay awhile. Gifting us with just about everything in Nature's summer arsenal. There've even been some more unusual weather systems scooting through this province, such as tornadoes. But we've been spared that type of weather, although we've shared atmospheric conditions with the tornado-receiving zones.

Everyone basks in the sun and the heat, and grouses about the humidity and the rain, but we love it, us gardeners. No worries about the gardens dying out, no need to spend too much time carefully watering our gardens and our garden pots. Nature has kindly consented to do all of that for us, and much, much more. The coddling sun, and the gentle breezes included. So garden-time can be spent doing other things. Not the least of which is standing back, and admiring what Nature has wrought on our behalf, with a few tweaks for us, in the background.

The roses are captivating and fragrant. As are the garden phlox, the petunias spilling out of their pots; the latter not the former. Astilbe is in bloom, delphiniums are re-blooming; and geraniums are outstretching themselves and blooming lustily. I've had to cut back the flowering portions of the hens'n chicks, the hostas. Liatris and mallow are blooming fit to beat the band. And Ladies Mantle has been replicating itself all over the rock gardens. Somewhat like the fecundity of the coral bells, whose babies await transplanting where they've fallen and are growing, on the walkway.

Morning glories are twisting on their vines, blooming blue, purple, bright and perky, then closing up for the afternoon, their glory momentarily abated. The Big Ben roses seen against the perky white of the lace-cap hydrangeas present the perfect picturesque foil. We yet await the bloom of alpine aster and chrysanthemum. I peek around the base of our large old pine, through to the stone Japanese lantern, to relish, as always, the hidden landscape that reveals itself - thrilling to its view, as I invariably do.

The bounty of texture and colour tumbling around and down along the rim of the garden pots are a glowing treat for the eyes; truly eye candy. Wax begonias, ever-blooming, exquisite in their paper-thin and glowing petaldom, in lush yellows, oranges, whites and pinks are enthralling. Million bells, lobelia, New Guinea impatiens and geraniums, bacopa and ipomea, vinca and gazania, hold us spellbound in their miniature landscapes.