What began as one raised bed became, over a strange and quiet year, something closer to a small farm.
The garden takes over
What began as a single raised bed became, over a strange quiet year, a small farm.
What began as a single raised bed became, over a strange quiet year, a small farm.
What began as one raised bed became, over a strange and quiet year, something closer to a small farm.
A small ceremony under the plum tree, forty guests, and rain that held off until exactly the right moment.
One hundred and eight bells at midnight, a very cold temple courtyard, and the best bowl of soba any of us can remember.
Eleven steps between the couch and the coffee table, then a triumphant collapse. We have too much video.
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