Carina Ikonen Nilsson-arkiv

The morning is still dark as the smell of coffee fills the living room. At first, I felt the words had dried up, but as the candles flicker, thoughts begin to move again. In this post I share a quiet autumn morning, the final garden chores, and reflections on how feelings and thoughts sometimes play tricks on us.

Read this post in Swedish ➜ Höstens stilla dagar

Autumn Morning in Stillness

It is still dark outside, the clock barely past dawn. Coffee steams in my cup while one lamp and two small candles light the room. I’ve been up for a while, but only now opened my laptop. It feels as if the words have run out, as if I am writing the last lines here for a while. Autumn has sighed its first breath, and I imagine its yellow leaves drifting even onto this blog.

But maybe that’s only a feeling. As if time has paused and the air itself stands still.

Thoughts Moving at a Slow Pace

The days go by. I do ordinary things. The ambitions I had before autumn quietly slid into a slower rhythm of not-doing. I feel stuck at home. Morning swims have paused, evening walks happen only on nights when I have the strength to join my husband – and not even every time. Perhaps illness is slowing me down, or maybe it’s simply time for rest.

The Greenhouse and the Garden’s Rest

Today promises sunshine, and I plan to tidy the greenhouse. I’ll pick the last ripe tomatoes, cut down the plants and spread the soil from the pots onto my garden beds as preparation for next year. Pots will be washed, the rain barrel emptied, and the greenhouse allowed to rest through winter.

young cucumbers sprouting in the greenhouse

I wonder if I am starting too soon. When do seasoned gardeners do this? Still, I want it done now, to avoid standing in January realizing something was left undone.

Tips: Autumn Tasks for Your Garden

As autumn settles in, a few small steps help your garden thrive next year:

Harvest the last crops – tomatoes, beans, apples, and root vegetables.
Cut back and clean – remove old plants and weeds so the soil can rest.
Cover with leaves or compost – to nourish and protect the soil.
Plant garlic and spring bulbs – garlic planted in September or October will reward you next summer.
Protect sensitive plants – cover roses, dahlias and others with leaves or spruce branches.
Empty rain barrels – so they don’t freeze and crack.

Small, calm steps that make a big difference in spring.
For more inspiration, see
Odla.nu – Autumn in the Garden or
Nelson Garden – Autumn Garden Tips (Swedish pages, easily translated in your browser).

Summer Memories and Next Year’s Dreams

This summer brought the quiet joy of growing things. Tomatoes tasted of pure summer, cucumbers were a delight to pick, and lettuce grew in abundance – maybe too much. Next year I’ll plan better and start seedlings at the right time. Soon I’ll plant garlic and pre-sprout onions. Our potatoes weren’t many, but they were delicious.

We also planted two apple trees: Ingrid Marie for its wonderful flavor, and Astrakan, which carries memories from the film The Emigrants. I hope both trees survive the winter.

Thoughts and Feelings That Play Tricks

Quite a lot of words for someone who just felt empty of them. Maybe it was only one of those fleeting feelings that sneak in when darkness still rests outside the window. Thoughts can be tricky. They whisper that everything has stopped and that the air stands still. But it isn’t always true.

Often they are just shadows of worry or tiredness, echoes of a restless night. Sometimes they play pranks, mixing up a quiet pause with an ending. Perhaps the real strength lies in seeing that not every thought has to become a truth. In that space—where you breathe and let the thought pass—new words, new steps and new days can quietly begin.

Reflection

This morning reminds me that stillness is not an end. Even a slow start can hold seeds of something new. Maybe it is in the pause that the next chapter quietly forms.

Between the Lines – My Voice

Beneath the words lives a longing for balance. A rest that is not escape but preparation. A reminder that nature knows when it’s time to gather strength.

AHA – Between the Lines

Perhaps this is really a story about more than greenhouses and autumn. When I thought my words had gone silent, they were still breathing inside me like a quiet rhythm. It’s as if nature and writing remind me that everything can move at its own pace. Pauses are not endings; they too are part of creation.