Tucking The Flower Farm In

As October fades into November, I’ve been slowly putting the flower farm to bed. The dahlias are dug and stored, tulip bulbs tucked into the soil, and the field now sits quiet — cleared and waiting for next season. It’s a peaceful sight, one that carries both gratitude and a hint of exhaustion. The mums are still putting on a show, along with a few other lingering blooms around the farm. The single patch of cosmos my husband left in the field makes me smile.

Flower farming isn’t easy. It’s early mornings, long days, and challenges that test your patience and strength. But it’s also the deep joy of watching something you’ve grown with your own hands bring happiness to others. This season stretched me in so many ways, yet standing in the empty field now, I can finally see the beauty and purpose behind every long day.

I’m tired — yes, truly tired — but it’s the kind of tired that feels full and meaningful. It’s the reward of work I love, the satisfaction of seeing life and growth all around me, and the quiet pride that comes from staying true to myself. I look at how far I’ve come and realize I’m still the same person who once set up a small pallet table on the side of the road, hoping someone might stop for flowers. Staying true to myself and this little dream has meant everything.

As the holiday season approaches, the rhythm of the farm shifts. The smell of evergreens will soon fill my workspace, and I’ve started making bows for wreaths and holiday designs. There’s a cozy joy in this change — a reminder that even as the fields rest, creativity continues to bloom in new ways.

With Thanksgiving around the corner, I feel especially thankful — for the visits to the stand, the kind words, and the support that has carried me through each season. This little flower farm wouldn’t be what it is without all of you.

I’m taking these quieter days to breathe, reflect, and rest when I can (even fitting in a nap here or there), savoring both the work I’ve done and the quiet promise of what’s to come. The work never truly stops — it just changes — and there’s so much beauty in that.

Here’s to a season of gratitude, rest, and the joy of creating through it all.

With gratitude,

Kelly