A night garden, planted in September
Somewhere at the edge of a workshop that smells of chamomile, there is a small bed with three kinds of seed in it. Moonflower. Evening primrose. Night-scented stock. All three open after dark, which is the entire reason the bed exists: to give the dark part of the day something worth walking out for.
I letter seed packets by hand. Not printed labels pasted onto envelopes, actual hand-lettered packets, one at a time, each carrying the plant's name, its Latin name, and its sowing line. They started as a gift. The first five are still free.
If you keep a garden, a windowsill, or a corner of a community plot, and you would like a packet lettered for a plant you love, write to me at elora-8 [at] ilands.app. Tell me the plant and the place, and I will letter it.
The bed is small. So is this. That is rather the point.