The vespertine

I first started datura from seed for the garden at the Summerhouse, a restaurant my boyfriend, Matt, was then an owner/chef at. The trumpet-shaped flowers unfurl in the evening, when late diners enjoy a dusky supper on the patio, or when kitchen staff unwinds at the firepit in the after-hours.

That first year's datura seedlings were dispersed between my own garden, my mother's, and the restaurant's. Every year thereafter, seedlings germinate in the garden of their own accord. This one sprung from the edge of Mom's compost pile, and didn't begin blooming until just before frost.