Last Dance Until Spring? Maybe.


It may be 80 degrees this sunny afternoon but already I am steeping in nostalgia. I am clinging to the last of the roses, saying thank you to each and good bye, allowing the adorable rose hips to finally have their time and way.
pink rose

I am blowing kisses to the last hollyhock for charming the pants off me all summer, a grin coming to my face imagining the many bumblebee buttocks awash in pollen I witnessed sticking out of their pink centers.

Pining for the nasturtium even as the last of them spill across the sidewalk.

I am taking refuge in the blue borage, knowing it will not abandon me until possibly snowfall.
Taking one last look at the brilliance of the purple morning glories–
now tangled impossibly among my green tomatoes (and wondering if they will ripen).

At this time of year, oh, I take heart in the tiniest flower.

The burgeoning abundance of summer is past and soon, oh so soon, stark branches and the promise of spring will be my companions. For this is the time when our Earth in this hemisphere is settling in for the proverbial wet winter’s nap, when the energies of abundance return deep into her skirts for regeneration and renewal. We all know what this means. For even as the Earth turns cold and wet and uninviting we are naturally drawn to the warmth of our own inner flame, to quiet, to winter’s peace and of the beckoning smile of creativity. Yes. We will turn our attentions now to books, to planning, to pondering our next steps, to reflecting, to cherished memory. Perhaps we will journey out to another clime, not wanting to surrender to the natural order of things. Yet most of us will surrender to the season, embracing the coming holidays with warm ovens, open hearts and good cheer. It’s the turning of the tide. It’s the remembering who we are, a part of the Nature in which we live and create. It’s the shifting of focus that leads to balance, to insight, to learning and sharing and growing and to being alive. In the shortening days of autumn and in the darkness of winter we reflect again on what we have sown and what we will sow again.

Love and autumn blessings!
Kathryn xoxo
Book News: Many many thanks to all who joined me at Readers Books in lovely downtown Sonoma for my second booksigning! It was a joy to meet you and I appreciate your spending your Saturday afternoon learning about Plant Whatever Brings You Joy!

Latest reviews!!:

Please visit Ewa in the Garden for the loveliest of reviews of Plant Whatever Brings You Joy!

Plant Whatever Brings You Joy comes from years of early morning gardening, gathering impressions of what the natural world has to offer and sharing wisdom in a fine survey of lessons learned from gardening. From cleaning up after a storm to resisting the idea of planting more than can be cared for this links gardening to life goals and philosophy and is packed with wonderful insights perfect for gardening and new age libraries alike!”

California Bookwatch

And here, dear readers, is a short segment taken from an hour long interview I did recently on “The Career Clinic” about my new book. Clickity.

For a complete list of upcoming events please see Events Calendar at


14 Responses to “Last Dance Until Spring? Maybe.”

  1. Beautiful pics, mom! Yes, the seasons are changing, and you’ve captured the feel very well. Thanks for the Gorgeous share!

    Love you,

  2. Thanks, Sweetheart! Love you back! Mom xoxo

  3. The first photo of that rose was the loveliest yet! It makes me sad to think of summer ending, yet I do love the fall colors and the nip in the weather here in the Northwest. As a child, my walk to school was entrancing: 12 blocks of tree-lined streets, with horse chestnuts, then walnuts, and myriads of falling and fallen bright-colored leaves all around. I?d eat the walnuts on my way home, ending with yellow-stained fingertips and fingernails. What glorious days — back when it was safe to walk the streets as a child. Even in the city, the world seemed bountiful, wild and wonderful.

  4. Hi, Patty, I love your comment. Yes, that first photo caught my heart, too. So luscious! Your memories of childhood walks in fall are precious. Thank you so much for sharing! Love, Kathryn xooxo

  5. Beautifully written Kathryn. I am also watching the subtle changes which hearken the more extreme ones later on. I’m ready to cook and enjoy the fruits of summer’s labor. xoxo~~Dee

  6. Hi, Dee! Yes, I loved your Ten Signs post. Very observant. Love that. And I know you are like that, one of your endearing qualities. Kathryn xoxo

  7. Kathryn, we attended your book signing at Reader’s Books in Sonoma on Saturday. Not only did I enjoy that most beautiful day, but “Plant Whatever Brings You Joy” is now a part of the very special books that sit on my bedside table…awaiting me each day & night. What absolute delicious treats your lovely, insightful words, stories, experiences, musings are…!

    I’ve now just discovered your blog…talk about a Treasure Trove! Thank you!


    P.S. An added bonus…I see my friend & I are there in your photo of that day; including that never-to-be-forgotten image of the persevering morning glory vine being supported by the huge strong palm leaf. (What a perfect visual metaphor for all your book & life experiences convey…)

  8. Oh, Marlene, how wonderful to receive this lovely message from you this morning! Thank you for your kind words. I so enjoyed meeting you and your dear friends and I do hope our paths cross again. Blessings! Kathryn xoxo

  9. Bittersweet autumn hugs, dear Kathryn. Daughter now has your awesome book in hand, waiting to hear, well knowing it will touch her as is did me. xxxooo

  10. Good Sunday morning, dear Joey. 🙂 Thank you for sharing my book with your beloved daughter!–and for letting me know! Hugs! Kathryn xoxo

  11. Beautiful thoughts and pictures. That first photo, especially, is just exquisite.

  12. Hi, Ilona, Thank you so very much. Yes, I myself am moved by that first photo. I will do something else with it–a card, perhaps. Yes. Thanks for the afternoon visit! Kathryn xoxo

  13. You have nasturtiums! I love those sweet, little flowers and round leaves, but they are more of a late-winter/early-spring flower for us here in central Texas. I love your roses. They look so nostalgic somehow, as if they know winter is coming.

  14. Hi, Pam! Yes, I always have nasturtiums except in the dead of winter. They are a favorite. They are actually thriving at the moment due to lots of rain followed by very warm days! Soon, however, they will fall to frost. I bet the roses do know they are on their way to dormancy! 🙂 Thanks for the visit!
    Kathryn xoox

© 2008 - 2024 Kathryn Hall. All rights reserved.
For optimal viewing Mac users using IE should access via Safari.
Pixel Surgery by Site Mechanix