06/15/2026
π
sunday evening. june 14th. the close of the week. the close of the weekend. the close of the day that was father's day and foraging day and slow bread day and the day the first tomato may have arrived.
the sunday evening garden at 9pm on june 14th π
πΈ the nicotiana fully open. the evening primrose flowers that were buds at lunch are open now β each one opening individually through the afternoon and evening in the specific sequence that evening primrose uses.
πΏ the herb bed has been in the sun all day and is releasing everything it has in the cooling air of the evening. the specific smell of warm lavender and thyme and rosemary all simultaneously β the smell of this specific garden on this specific evening.
π the strawberries that were not picked this morning β the ones left on the plant all day in the sun β are now warm and slightly over-perfect and they taste of the concentrated sweetness of a strawberry that has been converting starches to sugars in june heat all day. eat them now. tonight. they will not be better tomorrow. π
π the specific quality of the sunday evening garden that is different from any other evening in the week. the week has not yet started. the weekend is completing. the garden is exactly itself β not requiring anything, not demanding anything, just existing in the long light of the finest evening available in the calendar year.
πΏ the things worth doing in the next hour:
walk the garden slowly one more time
cut the last sweet peas of the weekend
check the slug patrol once more
drink something cold
notice what grew this weekend
tomorrow the week begins again. tonight there is this. π
save this for every sunday evening that needs it π
π what does your garden look like at 9pm on a sunday in june and what are you doing in it?