Everything I use in my botanical work comes from this land. What I gather now will sit in my flat files and compartmentalized containers through the winter, waiting for the right piece to need it.

🍁 Why Fall Matters for Botanical Art

Leaves change color for a few weeks, then drop. Seed heads hold their shape a little longer and then crumble. Berries ripen and then shrivel. Each of these has a window, and if I miss it, the material is gone until next year.

That’s why I collect with the season in mind. I’m not gathering for a single piece. I’m building a supply of materials I can draw on for months.

🌿 What I Gather

Leaves. Red and Japanese maple leaves give me deep, warm reds and oranges that shift as they dry. Oregon grape leaves are glossy and structured, with a sharp edge that reads well in a composition. Eastern Redbud leaves have a soft, heart-shaped form I return to often, with soft yellows and peach color. Wild Strawberry with it's festive green and red or Wood’s Rose leaves add delicate rust and browns that sit well beside brighter pieces.

Berries. White Snowberries and red Kinnikinnick berries bring small, rounded shapes that dry to muted colors. They don’t press the same way leaves do, so I dry them separately and handle them more gently. A berry can change dramatically in a week, so I work quickly.

Lichen. Lichen is my anchor. The variety found here is amazing! It grows slowly, holds its shape once dry, and gives texture that no paint can fully reproduce. Every piece in my “What Remains” (spring'27 launch) series is rooted in it. I've been experimenting with glycerin to add flexibility to certain types of lichen and am looking forward to discovering the effects on canvas.

🍂 How I Collect

I gather with a few rules:

• Take what’s fallen first. Leaves and seed heads on the ground are often the best material, and they’ve already done their work.

• Leave plenty behind. I never strip a plant. The property needs to keep its own winter.

• Collect only what I need. Over-gathering means material I never use and that’s a waste.

• Press or dry the same day. Fresh material holds color and shape far better than material left out for a day or two.

Some of what I gather will never make it into a piece. That’s part of the process and I’m learning to accept it. But I have found a way to re-purpose those plants that didn't dry to perfection. More about that in the new year: I’ll share that process before the March launch of ‘What Remains,’ and how I was able to incorporate all of the imperfect botanical pieces into the work!

🎨 From Basket to Studio

Back in the studio, the sorting begins. I lay out leaves by color and size, check each one for damage, and decide what goes into the press and what air dries. Some materials go into the next artwork. Some wait for a season I haven’t planned yet.

This is also where the spring wildflowers and summer blooms I’ve gathered before come into play. Fall is one season in a larger cycle, and the materials from every season live in the studio together, sorted by type and color.

🌸 The Invitation

Every fall, I’m reminded that the best materials are the ones you notice. You have to be looking, and you have to be willing to stop.

What do you notice on your own walks this time of year? A leaf you’ve always admired, a berry patch you’ve walked past for years, a patch of moss on an old fence post? I’d love to hear what catches your eye. Share in the comments or send me a message.

Browse the collection: Framed botanicals and small originals made from the materials I gather each season are available at LeftBrainCreative.Art. Each piece is made by hand from this property.

Related articles:

• January, on pressing and memory ~ 💛The Stories Flowers Hold: Memory, Meaning & Botanical Art 🌼

• May, the wildflower gathering post ~ 🌸 April's Fleeting Blooms: Gone Before May Arrives ✨

• August, on the materials and meaning ~ 🌿Layers, Materials & Meaning: Mixed Media Art Explained 🎨