Cicada Killer - This male was doing battle with another male to bounce his bottom up and down enthusiastically near this hole in the ground. My guess is that the female deposited her egg in the hole. These large wasps hardly notice me. The males are busy aggressively pursing each other in mid-air combat while the females dig their holes in the ground to deposit eggs so future cicada killers will emerge in spring.
Cicada killer wasps have been sharing air space with me in the garden recently. The males are harmless, unable to sting, but aggressive and hostile to one another. The females are much larger than the males and bury their eggs in the ground, digging a hole with spindly legs that resemble a John Deere backhoe. I have seen the males locked together in single-minded destruction with other boys lined up for their chance to humiliate and destroy. The peace-loving hippie bugs in these photos were hanging out on my butterfly weed having a sunbath while the beasty boys looted and pilfered above their heads.
Sweet Caroline is the queen of my late summer garden. Whoever said plants aren't sexy and smart doesn't work in my garden. She tantalizes the birds and the bees with her fuzzy stamen. In fact, the bumble bee resting on her silky skin was either asleep or in some sort of Trance of the Hibiscus.
A white balloon flower is a new addition to my 2011 garden. Side note: I went to the horticulture show last night at our local county fair. What a treat!
So building fires
requires attention
to the spaces in between,
as much as to the wood.
When we are able to build
open spaces
in the same way
we have learned
to pile on the logs,
then we can come to see how
it is fuel, and absence of the fuel
together, that make fire possible.
We only need to lay a log
lightly from time to time.
A fire
grows
simply because the space is there,
with openings
in which the flame
that knows just how it wants to burn
can find its way.
~ Judy Brown ~
It's the backside of Samson and the Lion greeting visitors as they enter the second floor galleries at the Art Institute of Chicago. 
Easter lilies remind me of death and a man splayed on the cross. These are not nice images. So why do I have Easter lilies in my garden? I felt sorry for the bulbs. My mom received the flowers as a gift and they would have rotted in their pots had I not planted them somewhere. I will try to revise my thoughts to the joyous living world whenever I see them blooming. 
Some gardeners view the globe thistle as a noxious weed. I, however, am not one of those gardeners. I respect this plant's protective thorns and its resolve to never die.
These hollyhocks are not top performers. I am considering ridding my garden of this variety. 
I will try to like this plant more. I've had it in my front garden for many years and mostly find it to be a squatty thing with gaudy pink flowers. I think I'll divide it and let it have more of a presence and see if I warm up to it. I do like the common name, pigsqueak - does anyone know where that originated?
I came home late tonight, switched on the radio to Hearts of Space- a program that musically melted my cat's fear of the unofficial run-up to the July 4th fireworks display- and the furry man fell asleep in my hand while I was trying to read the day's news online. 
