October on the Flower Farm

October has settled in, bringing cooler mornings, golden light, and the kind of quiet that only comes after a busy season. The fields feel different now — softer, slower — but still full of beauty. The dahlias are holding strong, bursting with color against the fading greens, and the air carries that unmistakable hint of fall. The hum of summer has faded, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the sound of change all around.

FallFest at Wildwood Farm here in Westminster was absolutely wonderful. It filled my heart to see so many familiar faces and share our flowers and creations with everyone. There’s something so special about these fall gatherings — the laughter, the local makers, and the sense of community that fills the air. Events like that remind me why I love this work so much — it’s not just about growing flowers, but about growing connections.

Here on the farm, the next few weeks will be busy turning over beds, pulling what’s left of the summer blooms, and preparing for cover crops and tulip bulb planting. It’s hard work, but there’s something peaceful about it — the satisfaction of closing out one season while quietly preparing for the next. I often find myself pausing in the middle of it all, taking in the quiet beauty of fall sunlight over the fields and feeling grateful for the simple joy of being here.

The stand will remain open, filled with fall beauty — dried flower pumpkins, wreaths, and cozy seasonal arrangements — and soon we’ll be moving into the holiday season, with Thanksgiving arrangements, fresh green wreaths, and handmade centerpieces. It’s one of my favorite transitions — when the farm shifts from autumn warmth to winter greens, and the smell of evergreens and pine fills the air once again.

Fall always reminds me that even as things fade and change, new beginnings are already taking root. This season is a quiet teacher — showing us that growth doesn’t always look bright and bold. Sometimes it’s slow, unseen, and happening deep beneath the surface. There are always challenges on the farm — weather, long days, unexpected setbacks — but each one carries a lesson. Moving forward through them, I’ve learned that resilience often blooms in the same soil as gratitude.

Each season brings its own kind of magic to the flower farm, but fall has a special way of making me slow down and reflect. It’s a time to take stock — of what bloomed beautifully, what surprised me, and what I’ve learned for next year. It’s also a time to simply be thankful — for every person who stops by the stand, joins a class, or sends a kind message. Your encouragement and support make all the difference.

Here’s to cozy mornings, crisp air, and the promise of another beautiful year ahead. I hope you stop by the stand soon to soak in a bit of fall beauty — it’s truly a special season on the farm.