Happy Summer— we’ve arrived.

Somewhere between the last Keeneland pour and the first backyard supper of summer, there’s a window—and this issue lives squarely inside it.  Gardens are showing off, patios are full, and May and June in the Bluegrass move fast. So our issue moves right along with them. Every feature earned its spot by reflecting the season: generous, a little golden, and worth slowing down for. 

Summer has a beguiling language: speaking of longer days, softened edges, looser rules, and the permission to blur structure without apology. It’s a season made for ritual. My rituals tend to live in the small things: bergamot, my favorite seasonal scent; gauzy voile dresses, the kind that look like they’ve already been somewhere; woven totes; raffia everything; barely-there sandals; the fleeting delicacy of garden-fresh strawberries, peaches, and tomatoes; Hugo spritzes; impromptu dinners on a patio with candles; and the perfect playlist humming in the background. These easy details anchor the season.