It’s time to share more about the future of The Botany Shop. This story begins as they often do in local and independent, brick and mortar shops: with a new fixture.

When was the last time you touched grass - or, in this case - stuck your feet in the sand and let the waves wash the stress away? Today’s note is an ode to the power of connecting with natural spaces, and the start of a technological de-tethering.

In today’s update, I share another invitation with you as Botany & Co. continues our journey towards becoming a community-based business. The new Community Focus Group Exhibit & Working Groups roles open up an entirely new way for you to participate and contribute towards a vision of a public garden for South Bend.

The story and the genesis of the Society begins with the 2024 election: specifically, the day after, when I hosted a pop-up “popsicles + bonfire” gathering in The Lot for anyone who needed a dose of community that day.

It was the first-ever gathering in this new space. The only thing inside the gates were the stump seats and some stones for the fire pit. That was it.

To this day, it remains one of my favorite memories.

Today is the first in a series of deep-dive, behind-the-scenes, long-overdue updates that I’ve been wanting to share with you.

My hope for these letters is simple: to provide a glimpse into the experience of owning and operating a local and independent business.

And it’s been awesome.

Lawn conversion season is just around the corner, and as I’ve been dreaming about the season to come and the edits I’d like to make in our former-front-lawn-turned-meadow, I’ve been reflecting on how it started and how it’s evolved. 2026 will be the sixth year for these plantings (I can hardly believe it!) and each year I’ve learned so many new things and experienced so many delightful moments and surprises.

Sunday, December 21, was the Winter Solstice: a date that marks the longest night of the year. It was also our first celebration of Luminous, a special event in The Lot Next Door.

I thought about framing this note in the context of “then and now, before and after, the Botany of one year ago vs. today.” But I don’t actually believe that’s the healthiest way to look at it anymore.

I think the main story this year isn’t about comparisons. It’s about lessons.

Well… sort of. Almost. Not quite yet. 

I’ve been “joking” for a few weeks now that if it frosted that night I wouldn’t be upset. The first hard freeze each year marks a sort of “point of no return” when it comes to our journey through the seasons.