Sun Child’s ‘The Garden’ Is a Dream You Won’t Want to Wake Up From
- ALT RECESS
- May 31
- 3 min read

There are songs that play in the background—and then there are songs like “The Garden” by Sun Child, which stop time, turn the sky a different shade, and pull you into a daydream you didn’t know you needed.
If you haven’t yet heard of Sun Child—the indie folk project led by Florida native Brooke Garwood—go ahead and cancel your afternoon plans. You’re going to want to sit with this one. Maybe in the sun, maybe on your bedroom floor with the windows cracked just enough to let a breeze in. Trust me, this is that kind of song.
From the first soft strum of acoustic guitar and the gentle swell of strings, “The Garden” blooms into something both earthy and otherworldly. There’s magic in its DNA—this isn’t just a song, it’s a spell.
And when Brooke sings, “She walks through the garden of her mind… and she loves all things that grow inside,” you believe her. Not because it’s catchy, but because it’s true. There’s an entire world inside this song—one that invites you to wander barefoot through memory, heartbreak, hope, and healing, all wrapped in soft light and quiet strength.
Lyrically, “The Garden” is packed with little gems that hit in ways you don’t expect. “Kiss me softly for the last time” doesn’t shout. It aches. And then there’s the devastating vulnerability in, “Tell me, am I crazy?… Do you think he could save me?” That line alone could fill a journal, a therapy session, a late-night drive where you're thinking about the one who let you down and the one you still hope might not.
The storytelling here doesn’t rely on big drama. It’s about the small, tender moments we carry with us. The quiet parts of love and loss, and the strange beauty of letting things grow—even if they hurt.
One of the things that makes “The Garden” so captivating is its organic sound. The instrumentation feels alive. It's warm, intentional, and—best of all—real. There’s no overproduction here. Just a guitar, some lush strings, and Brooke’s angelic vocals that sound like they were meant to echo off sun-dappled leaves.
It’s the kind of song you could imagine hearing at golden hour on a grassy hillside or through headphones as you fall asleep to the sound of rain. It’s gentle without ever being fragile—strong in the way wildflowers are, quietly growing through the cracks.
“The Garden” is a beautiful prelude to Sun Child’s upcoming debut album, Waves, dropping this summer. If this track is any indication, we’re in for a project that feels like walking through old photo albums, barefoot beach days, and the kind of deep, emotional truths that don’t always need loud declarations—they just need a voice like Brooke Garwood’s to say them out loud.
With roots in the coastal calm of Jacksonville Beach, FL, Sun Child’s music feels like it comes from the shorelines of both the earth and the soul. It’s indie folk that remembers its roots but isn’t afraid to wander into something cosmic. Nostalgic, yes. But always moving forward.
If you’re the kind of person who keeps a playlist for your softest moments—for sunrise drives, tea and tears, daydreams and letting go—“The Garden” belongs there. Sun Child has created something timeless, delicate, and brave in its softness.
Go listen. Let yourself float.
Comments