There is always a moment when I realize fall has arrived. It isn’t necessarily the first cool morning or the first leaf that turns orange. Sometimes it happens when I’m walking outside and notice that the light has changed. The sun sits a little lower, the shadows stretch a little farther, and the greens of summer have begun giving way to warm golds, rusty oranges, and deep reds.

This year, though, I think I noticed autumn most clearly when I looked across my worktable.

Somewhere along the way, my paints had started changing with the season. The bright summer colors were slowly being replaced by burnt orange, golden yellow, deep red, brown, and those wonderful muted greens that seem to belong only to fall. On my canvases and pieces of slate, little autumn landscapes began appearing, trees dressed in their October colors, quiet paths disappearing into the woods, pumpkins, barns, and scenes that simply felt like fall.

I don’t remember making a conscious decision that it was time to start painting autumn. It just happened.

The Seasons Have a Way of Sneaking Into My Art

I think that’s one of the things I love most about creating. Inspiration doesn’t always arrive as a big idea. More often, it slips quietly into the things I’m already noticing.

A tree along the road suddenly has one branch glowing orange in the afternoon sun. Leaves crunch under my feet during a walk. The air smells different after a cool rain. I find myself reaching for a sweater in the morning and lingering outside a little longer because the humidity of summer has finally disappeared.

Those small moments follow me back to the Nook.

Before long, I’m mixing a shade of orange that reminds me of the maple trees outside. I’m adding golden highlights to a landscape or wondering what a little cabin might look like tucked among trees at the edge of a lake. Sometimes I’m working on canvas; other times, I’m painting on slate and letting its natural texture become part of the scene.

That’s when I realize I’m not simply painting fall. I’m painting the feeling of it.

Why Autumn Feels So Creative

Every season offers inspiration, but there’s something about autumn that makes me want to create.

Maybe it’s the colors. Nature becomes incredibly generous with them this time of year. Colors we might hesitate to put together anywhere else—orange, red, gold, brown, deep green—somehow look perfect when the trees do it.

But I think it’s more than that.

Autumn has a coziness that invites us back inside while still tempting us outdoors. We want to walk through the woods and hear the leaves beneath our feet, but we also want to come home, make something warm to drink, and settle into a comfortable corner. It’s a season that somehow encourages both exploring and nesting.

For me, that often means coming back to the worktable with an idea.

Not necessarily a fully formed one. Sometimes it’s only a color combination. Sometimes it’s a photograph I’ve taken or a scene I noticed while driving. Other times, it’s simply a feeling I want to recreate—a quiet path, an old barn surrounded by brilliant trees, or that particular kind of peacefulness that comes when the world begins slowing down.

Creative Corner

If you’ve been feeling like you haven’t been creative lately, don’t put pressure on yourself to come up with a big project. Instead, look at what’s around you.

Take a walk and notice the colors. Pick up an interesting leaf. Photograph the way afternoon light falls across the trees. Sit outside with a cup of coffee or tea and pay attention to what catches your eye.

Then bring just one of those things back to your own creative space.

Maybe you paint it. Maybe you photograph it, write about it, crochet something in those colors, decorate a journal page, or simply place that beautiful leaf somewhere you can enjoy it for a few days.

Creativity doesn’t always begin with an idea.

Sometimes it begins by noticing.

Before You Go…

As I look around the Nook right now, I realize I’ve missed sharing this part of the journey, the half-finished paintings, the ideas waiting their turn, the unexpected inspiration, and the stories behind the things I’m making.

So perhaps autumn isn’t the only thing finding its way back to my worktable. I am, too. And I’m looking forward to sharing what’s been taking shape here.

There are new fall pieces to show you, winter paintings beginning to appear, Christmas ornaments waiting to be finished, and plenty of stories still tucked between all of them.

For today, though, I’m going to enjoy the orange and gold on my palette, the cooler air outside, and this beautiful little season between summer and winter.

Because autumn never seems to stay quite long enough—and maybe that’s part of what makes it so special.

With gratitude, Nancy

Woman working remotely on a laptop by the waterfront, enjoying a peaceful outdoor setting.

On My Worktable

Right now, my worktable is beginning to look very much like the season outside.
There are new fall paintings on both canvas and slate, along with brushes, paints, unfinished ideas, and probably more than a few things that technically should have been put away already. That’s part of the charm of a working creative space. It’s rarely as tidy as the finished photographs make it appear.
And mixed among the autumn colors, something else has started happening.
Winter has begun sneaking in.
A little white here. A snowy idea there. Thoughts of cardinals, evergreens, quiet winter landscapes, and Christmas have started competing for space beside the pumpkins and fall leaves. There are even Christmas ornaments waiting their turn on the worktable.
Apparently, creativity doesn’t pay much attention to the calendar.
For now, though, I’m happy to linger here in autumn a little longer.