A daily check-in · iPhone
Don't count the days. Grow something out of them.
Recovery Garden turns showing up into a living world — a bird for every morning, a planting for every afternoon, a star for every night you keep. Not a streak. A place.
Why a garden
One day at a time was never about the counting.
Day counters reset. Streaks snap, and take a piece of your heart with them. A number can only ever get bigger or go to zero — and neither of those is what recovery feels like from the inside.
A garden doesn't un-grow. Every check-in you've ever kept is still out there — flying across your sky, putting down roots, holding its place in your night. Miss a day and nothing dies. Come back and keep building.
You're not trudging through days. You're making a place you're proud to stand in.
Three short visits a day
Morning · about a minute
Point the day before it starts asking.
What's good, what's coming, and the next right thing. Seal it and a bird goes up to carry it — swallows, gulls, finches, herons, one for every morning you've shown up, gliding your sky forever.
Afternoon · a spot check
Anything knotted up? There's still daylight.
Name it, set it right, take an honest read of the beam. Then plant a seedling anywhere you choose on an endless stretch of land. It grows a little every single day — thirty days to full height — becoming a daisy, a sunflower, a pine. Walk your garden any time. It remembers where everything stands.
Evening · ninety seconds
The honest inventory, then lights out.
Five questions the way recovery has always asked them, and how close to the beam you walked. Seal it and a star rises — and keeps its exact place in your night, forever.
A world, not a widget
It's alive in all the small ways.
- Real weather.When it rains outside, it rains in your garden. Snow snows. A scorcher shimmers.
- The real moon.Tonight's actual phase hangs in your night sky.
- Seasons turn.Spring blossom, autumn leaves letting go, winter bareness — the pines keep their green.
- Company arrives.Butterflies once the garden fills in. Fireflies after dark. A shooting star, if you happen to be watching.
- It remembers.A year from now, the porch will quietly quote back what you wrote today.
- On your home screen.A widget keeps your sky in sight — your stars, the moon, and whichever check is waiting.
Private by design
Yours means yours.
No account. No cloud. No analytics. No tracking. Everything you write stays on your phone — we couldn't read it if we wanted to, and we've made sure we never want to.
Weather comes from Apple Weather using your approximate location, never stored, and entirely optional.
Read the whole privacy policy — it's short, because there's nothing to disclose.