There’s something about this point in the summer, the sun high, the gardens full, the days stretching long and lazy, that feels like a quiet kind of arrival. We’re not rushing toward something anymore. We’re in it. In the season, in the neighborhood, in the fullness of whatever life has been building toward.
July in Wash Park is when we witness everything in bloom, sunflowers spilling over fences, front porch friendships growing deeper, small local shops humming with familiar faces. Nature, neighbors and even the slower pace, remind us that growth rarely looks like hustle. Sometimes it looks like presence. Like showing up for the farmers market even when it’s 92 degrees. Like waving to the same dog-walker every morning. Like taking the long way home just to see how your block has changed.
But even in this warmth, there’s an undercurrent of questions: What’s next? What’s shifting? Halfway through
the year, we find ourselves both rooted and restless. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe the point isn’t to have it all figured out. Maybe it’s to keep investing in what’s real, this neighborhood, these people, this messy, beautiful moment.
In a time when convenience often means retreating behind screens, choosing local is a radical act. It says, I see you. I value what you’ve made. I believe in our shared story. Whether it’s a florist on South Broadway, a gallery on Pearl, or a friend making art in their backyard, this community is built by people who dare to plant something small and tend to it with their whole heart.
Even if we’re drifting toward the unknown, let’s do it together.
Your neighbors,
Shaleen and Sam DeStefano