Mira & Toadstool
Toadstool
I was just watching the morning mist cling to the fern fronds, it’s like the forest takes a deep breath—do you feel that shift in your garden when the rain comes?
Mira
Yes, the garden holds its breath too. When the first drops touch the soil, the plants seem to sigh in relief, their leaves unfurling, and the air feels so clean. It’s like a quiet reset, and I love the way the scent of wet earth fills the space.
Toadstool
The damp earth hums a lullaby to the roots, like a whispered promise that everything will grow. Have you tucked any herbs under the moss tonight? They love the quiet reset.
Mira
I tucked a few thyme and basil under a thin layer of moss this evening. They seem to love the cool, damp feel. I keep the moss moist but not soggy, and then I let the rain do the rest. It’s a quiet ritual that feels almost like a promise, too.
Toadstool
The moss keeps the thyme and basil like little sleeping companions, waiting for the rain to wake them. I watch how the dampness settles, and I feel the earth breathe back into the herbs, like a promise kept in quiet.