Finding Joy in the Transition from Summer to Fall

The Bittersweet Goodbye to Summer

I always feel a little sad when it’s time to do fall cleanup in the garden. There’s something overwhelming and unmotivating about dismantling the beautiful spaces that defined my summer. The giant maple tree in my backyard is already scattering leaves everywhere, slowly covering the garden I worked so hard to shape.

This year, I had brought more than half of my houseplants outside—hanging ferns and spider plants from the swingset, trailing pothos cascading down, Mona lavender on the landing, and pots hooked along the steps. From my piano studio window, it was a lush, green oasis. Now, as the time comes to bring them back indoors, I’ll miss that vibrant view.

Creating Something New to Enjoy

Instead of letting myself stay discouraged, I came up with a solution. I realized the swingset would be the perfect spot to hang birdfeeders and suet cakes, where I could enjoy watching the activity right from my studio window.

I’ve tried birdfeeders in other spots before—out front, or tucked near my pond—but I rarely remembered to fill them, and they weren’t in a place I could easily enjoy. Now, with my teaching schedule keeping me by that window for hours a day, I’ll be much more motivated to keep the feeders filled. I even plan to order a few more to attract a greater variety of birds.

Replacing Loss with Seasonal Beauty

I’ve started to notice that the key to not feeling depressed about the seasonal changes is to replace what’s leaving with something new.

• When my front porch’s mini “tropical jungle” of houseplants went back inside, I replaced it with cornstalks and pumpkins—a cheerful, autumnal welcome for visitors.
• When those fade, I’ll swap them out for Christmas greenery—pine branches, holly berries, pinecones, and checkered ribbons.

Of course, once winter passes and the holiday decorations are gone, there comes a barer stretch before spring flowers bloom. But maybe that’s a reminder in itself—that there is a time to be bare. The sparseness of February and March makes April’s blossoms even more precious. And who knows? Perhaps I could try snowdrops or crocuses in my porch pots for a hint of early life.

Learning to Love the Bare Season

As the days shorten and the yard changes, I’m thankful to find small joys in the transition. Birdwatching from my window, festive porch displays, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and even the work of gathering mulch all remind me that every season has its gifts.

We don’t need to be sad when one season ends and another begins. It’s the cycle of life, and each season has a purpose. There’s always something to look forward to, something to savor, and something to be thankful for.

What do you do to brighten your home and garden as the seasons change?