Whence Thou Comest?

This gardening year, full of heat and drought, has been confounding enough for Flint Hills gardeners, but while I've been whining about the weeds, and the wilting plants, and the extra watering, I've neglected to consider how totally out-of-sorts the unusual summer may have made my plants feel. 

Evidently the now cooler temperatures, and the little bits of water draining off of the garage pad as we've washed cars, have confused my 'Sensation' lilac bush into thinking that it is Spring here in the midst of Fall.  Yesterday, I noted four open blooms on the bush.  They are not near the size of the large full blooms it normally has, but they are respectable plumes nonetheless, and the delicious scent certainly isn't diminished by the smaller size.  This is a plain old Syringa vulgaris cultivar, so I don't have any idea why it thinks it should be blooming, and the neighboring lilacs aren't confused at all.  But blooming it is, surprising me again this year in addition to the white sport it developed this past Easter .

I am surely not going to grumble over this gift, this glorious olfactory present, but I wonder at  the providence.  Has the weather really made a mess of the internal rhythms of plants, or is something else the cause? Could my 'Sensation' merely be jealous that there are several re-blooming irises planted nearby who are getting all the attention right now?  What does this mean for other plants, the apples, the peaches, the fruits of next summer?  Will this specimen of 'Sensation' bloom normally in next Spring or have this year's buds already been wasted?  The mysteries of gardening go on and on.  As does the sweet scent of 'Sensation'.