Even when both heat and light reach their highest point, a quiet shift begins. Something stirs, for when the solstice has passed, the days, perhaps imperceptibly to begin with, start to shorten. Although the hedgerows are still full, the roses blooming, the garden brimming with colour, and the bees excitedly humming, there is an unspoken awareness that this won’t last forever.

For many of us, our relationship with summer is complicated. We feel a call to slow down, to stretch out time, and to bottle it if we could; with memories of the long, hot summers of our childhood, we cling on now, to the rhythms and the rituals which brought us to midsummer and beyond.

A blue and white Spode bowl filled with rose petals, held gently in cupped hands — a simple seasonal ritual of midsummer care.

But the summer months bring their own challenges, the heat, the pollen, and if we’re not careful, the busyness of the holiday season; slow living in summer seems even more important. As the seasons shift, many of us are seeking ways to embrace summer slowly, seeking seasonal living and nature based rituals which ground us in the present moment.

These five gentle midsummer practices offer a way to do just that: small acts of seasonal noticing that can ground us now, and prepare us tenderly for the darker days to come.

Watch the Light Change

We follow the four seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, yet there are many, many micro-seasons if we pause to notice: the liminal spaces, the not-quite spaces, and all of the moments in-between. I love watching the light change through the seasons, from the harsh light of winter, to the warmth of a golden summer evening.

Pink roses and soft peonies in full bloom in a summer garden — celebrating the abundance and beauty of midsummer.

Set aside five quiet minutes, perhaps in the early morning, or just before dusk, to simply sit with the light. Notice how it changes, how it ebbs and flows, how it falls across the trees, the ground, maybe even your own skin. Our appreciation of the golden light of summer is a memory we can cherish through the winter months to come, that after darkness, when we pass the winter solstice, the light will return.

One of the ways I love to see the shifting light is through the photos I take. When I scroll back through my Instagram grid, I can feel and sense the changing seasonal light. As photographers, we can be as afraid of the light as much as we seek to embrace it, and recently, I have been experimenting with using the warm, golden hour light of evening.

Bring the Outside In

The natural world is full of treasurers at the moment. Whether you find a deeply-scented spring of mint or lavender, a fallen feather, a tiny pebble, or a handful of rose petals, bringing some of these treasures inside offers a lasting reminder - often for many months - of the beautiful glimmers found in midsummer.

A blue and white china bowl filled with fresh rose petals — a gentle midsummer ritual embracing slow, seasonal living.

You could arrange them to make an evocative still life, perhaps in a basket or on a tray, or you can simply sit them on a shelf or in a vase, and enjoy them as the light slowly fades. They offer a beautiful reminder of what’s here now, and of course, that which will return again.

We collect handfuls of rose petals by the day and add them to a beautiful Spode Italian blue and white china bowl. The scent punctuates the air when we rise in the morning, and as they dry over the coming weeks, we will be left with a beautiful, darkly-perfumed memory of summer through the autumn and winter months to come.

Keep a Midsummer Journal

I know that many of you keep a journal, not just as a self-care practice, but as a beautiful way to gather your seasonal thoughts and emotions on paper. With nature’s palette alive with colour, and the air deeply scented, we can record our passing thoughts, that we might look back on in the seasons to come.

A handmade nature journal resting in the summer garden — capturing slow, seasonal reflections and daily observations.

However tiny the detail - the scent of a honeysuckle on a gentle summer breeze, the bees slipping in and out of the foxgloves, or the dusty heat sinking deep into the skin - journalling can be a beautiful way to anchor yourself in the present moment.

There are many beautiful journals available, but I wanted to share Fiona’s beautiful nature journal here. You can find more of her evocative and heartfelt creations in her Etsy store.

Close-up of a nature journal page, documenting small moments in midsummer — a practice in seasonal noticing and mindful living.

Preserve Something for Later

Whether it’s raspberry jam, dried lemon balm, or sprigs of delicately-scented lavender, there is so much joy to be found in preserving those things we find abundantly in summer. The jars of jam we make now will last us through the winter, the beautiful colours a reminder of summer’s bounty. Whilst we might be wilting in the heat now, in the months to come, we might enjoy a blob of that summer jam with a comforting bowl of warm rice pudding.

Three jars of homemade jam sitting on a garden table — a symbol of seasonal preserving and slow midsummer living.

Preserving those things which thrive in the warmth of midsummer allows us to return, to reawaken our senses in the darker months to come; a reminder that the colour will return.

Making homemade jam is, for me, one of life’s great joys, and one which I shared more about here. Whether you’re a seasoned jam-maker or a first-timer, this entry from my journal is full of tips and tricks for making jam: a true celebration of the summer months.

Take a SeasonAL Walk

I’ve been taking a regular evening walk for 15 years, and since we got married in 2022, my wife, Clementine, has joined me. We love the ritual of our evening walk; a breath of fresh air at the end of what is often a busy day. The seasons touch all our senses - the changing light, the ebb and flow of nature, and the ever-evolving palette of colours - a daily connection with the world outside.

Soft pink roses blooming beside a bird table — a peaceful summer garden scene reflecting slow and seasonal living.

Choosing a familiar, short walk, and repeating it regularly is a lovely way to connect with the changing seasons. It might be a woodland path, a local lane, across the fields, by the canal, by the sea, or maybe just round your garden; each one offers glimpses of the tiny changes we notice as the seasons change.

In a constantly changing and fast-paced existence, a regular walk offers a lovely rhythm as we navigate our way through an often-turbulent world. Whether you journal, sketch, paint, photograph, or simply notice the changing seasons, the natural world grounds us in the present moment.

A Final Thought

Society teaches us to cling to summer, yet undeniably, it brings its own challenges. If we learn to live with its changing rhythms, to be present in it, and to notice those small changes outside the window, we build up a storehouse of colour, warmth, and memory to return to throughout the year.

If the thought of the days shortening, the evenings becoming darker, and the warmth fading once again fills you with unease - and it does for many of us - begin weaving a beautiful tapestry of gentle memories now, for the seeds of winter ease are planted in midsummer.

If you’d like to share how midsummer feels where you are, I’d love to hear from you in the comments below. If this Journal entry resonated with you, I’d love to invite you to join our Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge community for weekly reflections and more inspiration.

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5 Gentle Midsummer Practices to Embrace the Season Slowly