One sprig was enough

A garden errand that turned into an excuse to stay outside a little longer.

Marlowe and Tate harvesting rosemary beside a raised garden bed.

We went out for one sprig of rosemary. The basket was optimism; Tate’s single sprig was quality control.

The rosemary bed had been waiting in the warm part of the garden, all sharp scent and silvery leaves. We carried the basket out for one sprig and stayed because the evening had not yet asked us to go back inside.

Tate held up the single cutting with the seriousness it deserved while Marlowe kept the basket nearby. The joke was small, but the garden had already supplied the better part of the plan.

The garden notes keep that same balance between the work outdoors and the useful things that help it go smoothly.

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