🌾 When the Garden Feels Heavy

There’s a rhythm to flower farming that most people never see. It’s easy to imagine the armloads of blooms — the bright dahlias, fragrant stock, and the overflowing buckets that make their way to weddings and markets. But beneath all that beauty lies the part of the work that no one posts about — the quiet, gritty, heavy part that comes at the end of the season.

We’re here now. The dahlias have browned, the nights dip below freezing, and the flower field is slowly being put to rest. Every day is a list of “lasts” — the last of the harvesting, the last of the compost turning, the last of the warm sun on your back. We’ve been cutting down rows, clearing beds, spreading compost, and tucking peony roots and bulbs into the soil for their long winter sleep. The roses are next — each one trimmed, covered, and whispered a little promise: “see you in spring.”

“frost-mas” 25’ - 10/25/2025

It’s a season of letting go, but it’s also a season that asks for more than I sometimes have to give. The work is slower but heavier. The mental load too. Between job searching, planning ahead for next year, and trying to balance motherhood, business, and life — it’s a lot. This time of year always asks for faith in the unseen. You’re planting for beauty you won’t see for months, investing in a dream that only lives in the quiet corners of your imagination right now.

And honestly? That’s hard. It’s hard to live one or two seasons ahead when you’re already running on empty. Flower farming has a way of doing that — forcing you to always think of what’s next, what needs ordering, what needs changing, what needs rest. And sometimes, I wish I could just pause — just stand in the field as it is, without rushing toward what will be.

But that’s the quiet lesson fall keeps teaching me: not everything beautiful happens in full bloom. Growth happens underground, in the stillness, in the letting go. The peonies don’t question whether they’ll bloom again. They rest. They trust the process.

So maybe this season is about that — about trusting what’s happening beneath the surface. About learning that heaviness isn’t a sign of failure; it’s a sign of transition. It’s the body and the heart catching up to the pace of change.

Lately, I’ve been reminding myself that even in the fading and the quiet, there’s purpose. The composting, the pruning, the clearing — it’s all preparation for what’s next. The same way rest prepares the soul for new growth.

So I’m leaning into slower rhythms. Early sunsets, muddy boots, cozy evenings with tea and notebooks. Dreaming in small ways again, without forcing the big picture. Letting the field and my heart rest together.

Because maybe this is what the garden has been trying to teach me all along:
Even when it feels heavy, even when it looks bare — this, too, is part of the bloom. 🌾

Written from the fields at Bede’s Blooms + Co., as we tuck another season to rest.

— Alex

My field helper these days

Fall on the Farm: Beauty, Work, and the Countdown to Rest 🧡🍂

As I sit here in my office writing this, rain is pouring outside the window—and the forecast shows more for the rest of the week. It feels fitting for these first days of fall: the sky heavy with clouds, the fields soaked, and the farm shifting into a new rhythm.

Fall is always a season of contrasts. The flowers are still bursting with color, yet the air carries a quiet reminder that the end is near. The garden is vibrant, but it’s also beginning its slow journey toward rest. I feel that in myself, too. After a whirlwind summer and a busy September wedding season, I’ve been intentionally trying to slow down—even amidst the chaos—to notice the beauty and honor the rhythm of the seasons.

What’s Blooming Now

Even though fall marks the countdown to the end of the season, we’re still soaking up every last bloom. Our second flush of lisianthus is coming in beautifully, and after such a strange, difficult growing year, the dahlias are finally thriving. Don’t worry—we’re still squeezing in as many weeks of flowers as possible before frost arrives.

And it’s not just the lisianthus and dahlias—our fields are still colorful with:

• Zinnias, though they’re finally starting to slow down after a long, generous run.

• Marigolds, just now hitting their stride, glowing in classic golden tones.

• Celosia, all velvety texture and saturated color.

• Cosmos, still thriving and dancing in the breeze.

• Sunflowers, standing tall and strong, always a crowd favorite.

• Scabiosa, airy and delicate.

• Hyacinth beans, climbing wild, dripping with jewel-toned pods.

• Globe amaranthus (gomphrena), pumping out its cheerful, everlasting buttons.

• Statice, with papery clusters perfect for fresh or dried designs.

• …and others, each adding to the vibrant patchwork of fall.

It’s a mix that feels both abundant and fleeting—proof that even as the days shorten and the nights cool, the garden isn’t done giving just yet.

A monarch moment in the marigolds. Fall always reminds me that beauty lingers, even as the season shifts. 🍂🦋

The Work of Autumn

This is the season where the farm demands both gratitude and grit. There’s so much beauty still blooming, but fall is also when we begin the hard work of tucking the garden in for winter. Here’s just a portion of the work ahead:

• Clear out all beds and rows of spent flowers

• Amend soil with fertilizer

• Clear the peony field from overgrowth

• Prep land, lay plastic, and burn holes for peony planting (curious about peony planting? Check out this post)

• Plant 100 new peony roots this year

• Plant cool-season hardy annuals (my favorite resource: Cool Flowers book — absolutely priceless)

• Pre-sprout half of our ranunculus corms to overwinter

• Install low tunnels for protection

• Plant around 3,300 tulips for spring

• Release nematodes + beneficial insects from Nature’s Good Guys

  • Exciting news!! We have an affiliate link for you — receive 20% off your order with the code BEDESBLOOMS or click this link here: https://www.naturesgoodguys.com/BEDESBLOOMS

• Catalog dahlias, relabel and take notes (a few losses to rot this year were especially hard)

• After first frost: dig and store all dahlia tuber clumps

And beyond that list: weed one last time, mulch perennials, cut back selectively, drain hoses, clean and oil tools, sanitize trays, compost what we can, test soil pH, and tuck away seeds with notes for next year.

It’s no wonder fall feels like both an ending and a beginning. The work is heavy, but the hope for spring is already taking root.

Why Rest Matters

The seasons teach me so much about rhythm and renewal. Just as the soil needs a reset, and many flowers thrive only because of the cool, quiet months ahead, I find myself needing that rest, too. Farming is a constant cycle of tending, tearing out, and tucking in. There’s no true pause, but there is a deepening—a reminder that rest is part of growth.

This week feels especially meaningful. Tomorrow, my husband and I will celebrate our third wedding anniversary. Just like the farm, love and life have their seasons of growth, change, and rest. Both require tending, patience, and faith to flourish.

What’s Ahead

Dried Floral Pumpkins: Now Open for Pre-Order

They’re back! Our dried floral pumpkins are now open for pre-order. Each one is handcrafted with our own dried blooms, designed to bring fall’s beauty indoors and last through the season. These go quickly every year, so don’t wait if you’d like one for your home or as a gift.

—> Check them out here: Fall Floral Pumpkins

2026 CSA Subscriptions: Early Access for Subscribers

We’re also opening 2026 CSA subscriptions to our newsletter subscribers first—before they’re released publicly on Black Friday. This will be our only discount of the year, and spots are limited to maintain the utmost quality.

If you’re new here and wondering, what’s a CSA? It stands for Community Supported Agriculture—a model that connects you directly to your local farmer. By purchasing a CSA share, you’re essentially reserving a season’s worth of flowers up front, which provides us with the resources to plant, grow, and harvest with confidence. In return, you receive a curated bouquet every week during your subscription. It’s one of the best ways to support small farms like ours while ensuring you get the freshest, most local blooms possible.

Learn more about our flower subscriptions here.

Closing Thoughts

As we lean into fall, my heart is grateful—for the flowers, for the hard work ahead, for the love that steadies me, and for every person who continues to support this little farm dream. Fall is more than just an ending; it’s an invitation: to embrace the work, savor the beauty, and trust the rhythm of the seasons.

As we lean into fall, my heart is grateful—for the flowers, for the hard work ahead, for the love that steadies me, and for every person who continues to support this little farm dream. Fall is more than just an ending; it’s an invitation: to embrace the work, savor the beauty, and trust the rhythm of the seasons.

I am also looking forward to the “shorter” days and slower rhythm (even though the behind-the-scenes to-do list is soooo long, with some amazing things on the horizon). I’m hoping to complete a handful of puzzles, create a new vision board for 2026, read more books than I listen to, and sip more cups of tea that I actually have time to enjoy.

What do you look forward to most in the colder months? I’m never quite ready for the cold or the snow—but I welcome the rest.

With love and gratitude,
Alex 🌸

P.S. If you’d like to follow along with daily farm life, behind-the-scenes stories, and fresh flower updates, come join us on Instagram and Facebook. Better yet, sign up for our newsletter for even more inside tea! We’d love to have you there. xo