There’s something about the slower days of summer that seems to invite me to pick up something gentle and meaningful with my hands. Perhaps it’s the longer evenings, or the unhurried rhythm that naturally follows the school year winding down, or in my case, a considered return to the gentle art of homemaking.
Whatever it is, this season feels like the perfect time to begin—or return to—a quiet stitching practice.
Needlework has long been a companion to peaceful moments. Whether it’s the soft click of knitting needles, the rhythmic pull of thread through linen, or the satisfying neatness of tiny cross-stitches forming a pattern, there is a kind of stillness that settles over me when I work with my hands. It's a way of grounding myself, of inviting beauty and creativity into the everyday.
This summer, I’m leaning into those slower moments by spending more time with needle and thread. I find that cross-stitch and embroidery offer just the right amount of focus to quiet the mind, while knitting feels wonderfully meditative—especially when paired with a cup of tea and a breezy open window.
Needlework has threaded its way through may seasons of my life - some joyful, some trying - and it's always brought a sense of clam and comfort.
Needlework has been my companion through many a season. It has been a link from my role as a young homeschooling mother with days packed with learning and the challenges that parenting can bring, through the transition over the turbulant rapids of discovery throughout that empty nest season, into the still waters of acceptance and a new season.
I recently spent some time sorting through the stitching supplies and fabrics I’ve gathered over the years and came across three unfinished projects, along with materials set aside for others I’ve yet to begin. I'm so grateful I took the time to store these treasures carefully—they’ve waited patiently, ready to be picked up again.
This summer, I’ll be returning to these three projects, gently weaving a simple stitching practice into the rhythm of my days and weeks.
A Little Winter Robin
This little "Feathered Friend" stitchery in issue 234 of The World Of Cross Stitching magazine which I started in 2018.
It was going to be a gift for my grandmother, we have shared a love of the little British Robin since my childhood. Sadly she passed away a few years ago and I never got to gift it to her.
It's a stark reminder to not put off for tomorrow what we can do today.
I think that finishing this little chap and displaying him in my home this Christmas time will be a beautiful tribute to her.
I can imagine it catching my eye as I work in the Kitchen during that joyful season, and to be reminded of her. It will be like she is with me in the ordinary moments of my days. So my goal is to finish this project over the next 8 weeks.
Forest Snowfall
I started this Country Cottage Needleworks chart, Forest Snowfall, about two years ago. It's been tucked away for far too long, and I would love to complete it in time to display during the early winter months.
In my mind’s eye, I can see myself gently packing away the festive decorations after Twelfth Night, the house quiet once more after the joyful flurry of the holidays. In their place, I hang this wintry stitched scene—a quiet nod to the season, full of charm and stillness.
There is something so comforting about those first weeks of January, when the world slows down and home becomes a sanctuary once again. This sweet little chart reminds me that the return to simple domestic rituals are their own kind of celebration.
Changing Seasons
This was a more recent start. Autumn is by far my favourite season—there’s something quite magical about it. Outside, nature begins to slow down. Leaves shift from summer green to rich golds and russets, a final glorious flourish before the stillness of winter, when all things rest and gather strength for the season to come.
Yet even in this slowing, there are new beginnings. The rhythm of the year turns toward harvest celebrations and the quiet anticipation of winter festivities. It’s a season of both stillness and expectancy—a slowing and a quickening.
This chart was designed by Durene Jones for the World of Cross-Stitching Magazine. You can buy this design from her Etsy Shop.
I love to decorate my home for autumn with natural items gathered from nature, warm blankets, autumn scented candles and of course, my homespun stitchery's. I try to make something new for my home each year and I think this little sampler would be a great addition.
Starting a Simple Stitching Practice This Summer
What I love about this hobby is that you don’t need to be an expert or have a drawer full of supplies to begin. A simple hoop, a few threads, a free chart found on Pinterest, or better yet, treat yourself to a lovely cross-stitch magazine packed with charts and advice ... is all it takes to open the door to hours of peaceful creativity. And in a world that often moves too fast, returning to these traditional crafts can feel like reclaiming a bit of quiet joy.
As I settle into this slower rhythm, needle and thread in hand, I’m reminded that creativity doesn’t need to be grand or complicated to be meaningful. There’s such comfort in the familiar motion of stitching, in watching something beautiful emerge little by little. It’s a quiet, grounding practice—one that draws me back to the heart of home, to peaceful winter afternoons and the gentle blessing of making something with my own hands.
So why not pick up your needle and thread, find a quiet corner, and begin? You might just rediscover a deep and quiet joy waiting to unfold, one stitch at a time.
