Greetings and salutations everyone; yes, once again it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, and here to bring you the latest and greatest news from our garden, or, in this case, from somewhere else. You may remember me from such posts as “Guarding The Fort” and “Time To Get Serious”, among so many, many others.
Here I am in a characteristic pose. (Yes, I know my toenails need to be clipped, but don’t tell anyone else, okay?)
I was left alone again today. Not for very long, really, but I didn’t get to go, which was a disappointment, but the guy I live with said that where he went was to a place where no pets were allowed.
I don’t consider myself to be a “pet”; I’m the guy I live with’s best buddy, a pal, if you will, but he said that other people don’t make that distinction, so I had to stay home.
He went to the Chatfield Arboretum. It’s part of Denver Botanic Gardens. It’s pretty much right down the street from us.
First, there was the obligatory stop to take a picture of the outcrop of Niobrara Shale on the way there. The white stuff is the shale. 
Looking the other way (south).
Looking across the road (southeast). The arboretum is down in the valley there, and off to the east. 
The arboretum is on the site of an old farm, built in the 1860s, and Deer Creek runs through it.
There’s a garden of what you might call midwestern prairie plants. We don’t grow any of these. It’s mostly in a “swale” (I didn’t know what that was until it was explained to me).
Here’s the farm house.
He wandered around some, but he said he was perspiring so much he thought he might lose his mind. I don’t know how he could tell, if he did. It’s been really humid here, for us.
tree form of Hippophae rhamnoides
bark of the black locust, Robinia pseudoacacia
I know what lives in here, because I grew up with them when I was really super extra little.
The guy I live with says he’s always wanted one of these.
Well, that’s where he went. Then he came back, and everything was okay. I knew it would be. It hasn’t thundered yet, and it’s pretty hot, so I think I’ll just hang out in my fort.
Until next time, then.
the miserable gardener 