The weather shifts, the soil changes, the tide turns—and the garden listens. This month, explore how embracing change can deepen your connection to place and strengthen your garden’s resilience.

Beneath stillness, the garden hums with quiet activity. This month explores how to support birds and insects through winter—and how their presence enriches the garden’s spirit and health.

As frost edges fennel and globe thistle, the winter garden glows in subtle tones of bronze, gray, and gold. This is the season for patience—for seeing beauty where others see decay.

Our monthly letter

The land and sea trade stories and everything alive seems to listen. In permaculture, we call this living conversation “the edge.”

Sometimes, the simplest sound—a hen’s morning cluck or the drip of rain on the coop roof—is all it takes to remember we’re part of a much larger pattern.

November is nature’s reminder that order is only ever temporary — and that even in disarray, there’s deep purpose.

Our monthly letter

A garden of only one crop is like a song sung in a single note. It can be clear, but it leaves little room for harmony. Resilience is from variety, and abundance is from many voices working together.

This is the month when gardeners become gatherers, stewards, and dreamers all at once—putting the garden to bed while sowing the promise of next spring.

For those who long for beauty after the grey—this is bulb-planting season. Planting bulbs is like writing a letter to your future self—“Remember joy. Remember color. Hold on, it is coming.”

Our monthly letter

In this turning of the seasons, we are reminded that meaningful growth rarely happens all at once.

Summer’s fullness is still with us—the tomatoes hanging heavy, the squash sprawling wide—but autumn is quietly at the edges, reminding us that every garden is part of a larger rhythm.

Have you noticed how the garden’s whole character can change in these few short weeks? September teaches us that endings are also beginnings.

Our monthly letter

At its heart, this principle invites us to move away from compartmentalization and toward cooperation, synergy, and thoughtful connection—values that are as vital in life as they are in the garden.

Mid-summer is a season of steady hands and watchful eyes—an opportunity to care deeply for what we’ve grown and prepare for what’s next.

The heavy lifting of summer may not yet be over, but nature begins to exhale. August in the Maritime Northwest brings a rare and beautiful phenomenon—our second spring.