The evening in early April arrives gently, like a curtain lowering rather than a switch being flipped. The light lingers longer now, stretching soft gold across the sky before fading into dusky lavender. You notice it as you move through your space—the way you don’t need to rush into darkness, the way the day seems reluctant to end. You crack a window open, just enough to let the evening air slip in. It carries a coolness, but also something new—something faintly floral, something green.