All summer he has watered the sunflower from the spout of his own long face, standing in the pond at its side, and all summer the two of them have been growing alike. A thread runs from his hand to its stem. Today the flower turns. What passes between them needs no words, only water, and a courtesy older than either of them. From Tethered Garden: sixteen films of one garden that has begun to look back. Tethered Garden, 2026. Single take, 28 seconds, 1920 × 1080, with sound. No. 01 of sixteen.