Abby Winters Tour Page

“And here’s the garden,” Abby said, stepping out back.

“This is where we start,” she said, pushing the screen door open. It whined softly. abby winters tour

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching a bee work a zucchini flower. No performance. Just the quiet fact of her body, the way her ribs moved with each breath. “And here’s the garden,” Abby said, stepping out back

Inside, the light fell in long rectangles across wooden floors. No shoes. No rush. A ceiling fan turned slow circles above a worn sofa piled with cotton blankets in faded colors. On the kitchen counter, a pitcher of water with lemon slices floating lopsided. “And here’s the garden