Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No.12

November 12, 2026 by Donna Hopkins

City: I dress for comfort and my style could easily be described as vintage LL Bean. But I love to see how others express themselves creatively by way of their clothing. These vintage outfits are spiffy.

Country: The flowers and pumpkins are being plowed under, one field at a time. And strawberries are being planted! The seasons overlap and fold one into the other.

Thought for today (from Colin King): What about the days when nothing particularly remarkable happens? When we answer emails, make dinner, laugh at something stupid, call someone we love, and go to bed without having figured everything out?

I don’t think those days are any less meaningful.

Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No.11

November 11, 2026 by Donna Hopkins

November and still no first frost here in central Virginia. We had breakfast at Early Bird Biscuits in Richmond and took a walk around the neighborhood. It’s amazing how many small gardens there are in the city. They make use of every inch of space. Flowers and vegetables intermingle. The homes are like well-developed characters in a really good novel. Around every corner the story takes an unforeseen turn. I want to turn the page to see what happens next.

Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No. 10

November 10, 2026 by Donna Hopkins

Sharing an excerpt from my very favorite substack author, Colin King, who explains—Not Everything Needs a Before and After.

But I’m learning that doing everything I can doesn’t mean I get to decide when something feels finished. Sometimes I need to walk away and come back later. And sometimes I have to let things be exactly as they are, even when I’d prefer a different arrangement.

Not everything needs to feel resolved to be worth living with.

And not everything needs a before and after.

Fall Field Notes: A Change of Seasons No.9

November 09, 2026 by Donna Hopkins

Things feel very complicated. And then I remember I do not have to buy into every trend or influence or promise. Some really wonderful things are simple. Cherry tomatoes on the vine. A handmade pottery mug. Rearranging the pictures I already own to make my home feel updated. Fresh flowers.

Same old camera.
Same old husband.
Same old car. Same house.
Chili from the freezer for lunch.
Do I sound old?
What does old even sound like?
Maybe everything old is new again.