It was the perfect summer day yesterday. Weatherwise, it was 24oC. There was a slight breeze to cool things off. The neighbour's bunnies were lazily hopping around in their overgrown yard. Bits of dandelion fluff and poplar cotton were swirling gently about in the sunlight filtering through the crabapple trees pouring over the fence. Crabapple blossoms were flittering down from the branches, and little chicadees and red breasted robins were pecking away at real or imaginary worms in the dirt.
I had returned home from work and had decided it was time to put some plants in the ground. The earth greedily absorbed the moisture I was pouring on them, and my coral bells and forget-me-nots were perking up from this. The Veronica and delphiniums are starting to look like what they should. My blue poppy plant had survived the winter and it looks like I will have a small blue poppy this year. My tulips are almost done- the pink and white ones are open beyond their normal bounds and the only tulips that are still at their peak are the late flowering little pink ones that were planted in the shade of the deck.
As I worked the shovel into the dirt to make way for the the new plants I got, for that one infinitesimal moment in time, it is as if time slowed down, and the mosquitoes stopped biting, and the heat didn't matter, and the snow-in-the-mountain runners I had been battling for two years stopped bothering me and everything was perfect , and I almost felt contentment.