Usually in October I say goodbye to my garden for the season. I gather my last harvests. Cut as many flowers as I can before frost blackens the plants. It’s a bittersweet time of year.

June! Oh, June. What a magical month.

Ah, June in the garden. What a beautiful month.

Today on my blog, I planned to share about the Winding Roads Art Tour, but as I was driving home on Sunday evening I realized I hadn’t taken a single photo all weekend.

I’ve been eating asparagus, rhubarb and young walking onions from the garden. I’m also harvesting chives and pinches of my basil seedlings.

It’s hard for me to believe the days were sunny and warm and my flowers were blooming only a week ago.

When I’m planning my garden for the year I always like to consider my garden from the year before.

I stand at the window and look out at my garden. Birds come and go from the feeder.

In October you never know what you’re going to get and the hooks by my back door reflect just how changeable it’s been this month.

In June when I wrote to my Joy Letter subscribers I said that June was my favorite month. Right now, though, I’m thinking August might be.

We’re more than half-way through June. The solstice is just a few days away. Summer is well and truly here.

Not much was happening in the garden in April, but now things are really starting to take off.

The purple poppies have been stealing the show around here lately.

For me, springtime in the garden always means violas and pansies. They’re some of the first things to show up at garden centers and one of the first things to bloom in my garden.

My main intention with my blog is to encourage and inspire you. To discover beauty. To look for joy. To embrace your creativity.

The wind shrieks a puff of snow off the roof and as I step outside the storm door shatters an icicle onto the stairs.

Colorful leaves crunching underfoot. Pumpkins arranged on the front steps. Gently falling snow.

September is here. How did that happen?

During this month we often get our first killing frost, turning my garden to blackened mush and ending its season of painting inspiration. Is it any wonder that I mourn the coming of the fall?

Won’t you join me in the garden today?

As slowly as 2020 seems to be progressing, the summer is certainly speeding past. I can’t quite get my head around the fact that it’s already late August.

Last week I pulled out all my spinach plants. They’d bolted (begun to flower and go to seed) a few weeks earlier. I’d been harvesting leaves from the stretching stems nearly every day, but it had gotten to the point where the plants had toppled over and were no longer producing new leaves.