Water feels different when there isn't enough of it. It stops being background noise — the hose running, the tap filling a watering can, the sprinkler tick-tick-ticking away like it owns the place. Suddenly, it's deliberate. Measured. And yeah, slightly uncomfortable.

You want to grow something. But when you look around, you don’t see neat beds or a rolling homestead.

You’ve got tomatoes. You’ve got peppers. You’ve got basil. Now what?

You grow your veggies. You water. You fuss. You stare lovingly at them every morning like a proud parent. And then — horror — your tomato sprouts a horn. Your radish looks like it’s hiding a sunset inside. Your squash has lumps that would make a dermatologist sweat.