The season is shifting. Each day I notice something new. The angle of light. The colors of falling leaves. The sound of geese calling as they begin their journeys. I try to stay connected to the seasons. As a gardener, the wheel of the year directs so much of what I do. As a botanical artist, my inspiration is tied to nature and its cycles.

When I checked first thing this morning, the temperature was 31 (30 degrees lower than when I woke up yesterday).

Before I dive in to talking about what a typical day looks like around here, I want to take a moment to thank you for sharing your experiences with online subscriptions and communities in last week’s post.

I was going to jump back in to blogging today with a post addressing a question I’ve gotten from readers and students, but then I realized I want to talk about my blogging break.

I cut handfuls of dead flowers from my garden this week. Their shapes are interesting. Petals twisted. Leaves furled as if frozen in motion.

Right now zinnias, dahlias, cosmos and marigolds color my garden and feed the bees, butterflies and hummingbirds.

Somehow September is here. Schools are back in session. It’s feeling more and more like fall. BUT, it’s technically still summer. And I want to hold onto summer as long as I can.

This has been a chaotic week. Or maybe I should say, my studio is in chaos. I’ve been filming my next Skillshare class and somehow my studio always ends up looking like a small tornado has passed through when I’m filming. Having my sewing table and ironing board set up in the room hasn’t helped matters.

How is possible that Thanksgiving has already come and gone? If you celebrated it, I hope it was peaceful, joyful and filled with love.

It seems I’m always pondering how fast time is flying by and how I’m not able to keep up with it. Am I the only one? Do you feel this way, too?

Last week the weather shifted dramatically from summer to full-on autumn. Suddenly the days were cold. Dark. Wet. I layered on sweaters and hats and scarves. We turned on the furnace and brewed pot after pot of hot tea.

I felt lethargic, melancholy. It was hard to get out of bed in the morning. I made soup and baked bread. I wrote Joy Lists. But nothing seemed to help. I was uninspired and discouraged in my art, too. All I wanted to do was snuggle beneath my quilts and crocheted blankets to wait for the sun to come out again.

It's been ages since I've done a Joy List Monday post  (I've never done one in this space), but this morning I am overflowing with joy and wanted to share it with you (and encourage you to discover some joy at the start of a week, too).

It's the last day of August. I can't quite believe it. Throughout the month I've been noticing the beginnings of fall. It seems early this year.

Summer's my season and although autumn can be beautiful its arrival always makes me a bit melancholy.