The Night Gardener knows her plants by feel. Here, the curl of a sprout. There, the poke of a weed. Water soaks into dirt. Scissors snip the scraggly ends. She croons to the baby zucchinis in the greenhouse because her human children are all grown and too old for lullabies. For the seedlings big enough to be tucked into beds, she coddles their roots with compost and whispers stories about past blooms from long ago. The tomatoes listen and learn […] Continue Reading
