I call him Bounce. That's the name I gave my little soft-eared beagle hound when I was a boy.

The present day Bounce is carved in stone. He holds a lantern in his mouth as he sits beneath the birdhouse in front of my home.

When the sun shines on Bounce and his lantern in daylight, the lantern glows all through the night.

Each night at bedtime, I look out front where Bounce sits stonily and, sure enough, his lantern is lit.

I sleep well: Bounce is on guard.

Many flowers, especially wildflowers, have three- and four-word names.

In my front garden, I have lilies of the valley, forget-me-nots, black-eyed Susans and lady's slippers with their classic upturned toes.

Perhaps I should get a rose of Tralee or a Daffy-down-dilly to fill in the open spots. Maybe I'll get a white sport coat to go with my pink carnation. By golly, there won't be room for weeds to grow.

There's a big bumblebee living in a small round hole in the hydro pole nearby. He comes to visit while I sit out front.

Allow me to (bees)wax poetic:

Bumble Bee Mathematics

Given his weight versus the size of his wings, times the number of times he can beat 'em,

There just is no way, the scientists say, he can fly from the place where he's eating.

So, in spite of that fact, he gets there and back, and his daily meals are sweet honey.

I'll believe what I see as this fat bumblebee flies the groceries home to his Mummy.

Did you know that the name dandelion comes from the French, who introduced the flower to America? They had called it dents du lion (teeth of the lion) for its sharp-looking leaves.

Ted Wilcox is a lifetime Hamiltonian with a passion for sports, community and, most of all, family. His column now runs Tuesdays.