There’s a certain feeling that late summer carries with it — a kind of pause, like the earth taking one long breath before autumn arrives. The days are still warm and bright, the garden is overflowing, and every moment feels worth holding onto. This year, I’ve been especially intentional about slowing down, noticing the little things, and savoring the season of life God has placed me in.

For me, homemaking always seems to find its rhythm in the kitchen. One of my favorite dishes from back home in the Philippines is pinakbet — a simple yet flavorful vegetable stew. Traditionally made with eggplant, okra, bitter melon, and shrimp paste, pinakbet is flexible and forgiving, using whatever vegetables are fresh and on hand. On this day, I simmered garden-picked tomatoes, green beans, zucchini, and local pork shoulder from a nearby farmer. The result was comforting and rich, a dish that reminded me of my roots while also connecting me to the prairie where I live now. Sharing this meal with my husband, toddler, and baby felt like weaving my Filipino heritage into the fabric of our daily life.

The garden itself has been another source of joy this summer. We planted late after returning from a trip to the Philippines, but now the tomatoes, beans, and zucchini are coming in full force. There’s something grounding about harvesting barefoot, with my toddler beside me asking questions and picking vegetables with her small hands. She’s learning that food doesn’t just come from a store — it comes from the soil, the sun, and God’s provision. Watching her wonder has been one of the sweetest parts of this season of motherhood.

Flowers, too, are part of the rhythm of my homemaking. Hydrangeas and dahlias found their way into my home this summer, gifts from a friend’s generous garden. I’ve been drying them in bundles, preserving their beauty for autumn. These flowers are more than decoration — they’re little keepsakes of summer, carrying stories and memories into the months ahead.

Of course, late summer isn’t only about the garden and home. It’s also about the moments we carve out for family. This year we braved the state fair with our little ones, chasing Filipino food, feeding animals, and even sitting for a caricature drawing to mark this season of our family’s life. These kinds of outings aren’t always easy with a baby and toddler, but they are always worth it — the memories linger long after the day ends.

Even in the ordinary, there is meaning. Walks to the park, feeding ducks, watching squirrels, collecting pinecones and tiny flowers with my toddler — these are the small treasures that shape my days. They remind me that motherhood, like gardening, has its seasons. Right now, mine is full of chatter, laughter, and wide-eyed curiosity, and I know one day I will look back and miss these ordinary joys.

As summer winds down, gratitude fills my heart. Gratitude for the garden, for the friends who gave gifts and flowers, for handwritten thank-you notes that made me pause, and for the chance to live out this calling of motherhood and homemaking with God’s grace. Seasons shift, children grow, but His goodness remains constant. And that is what I carry with me as late summer fades into autumn.

🌻 What about you? What late-summer moments are you holding close this year?