Small Moment: Germinating Seeds

seedlings leaning into the light

Last week, I planted a few seeds. Nothing special, a little basil, a little cilantro. Another way to fight the doldrums of  this long snowy winter.

I was delighted, earlier this week, when the cilantro seeds germinated. I found these seedlings, bright and green, stretching toward the sun, craving the same warmth and light that I do, oblivious to the bitter cold and the blanket of snow outside the window.

Watching tiny flecks of seeds transformed into tender living plants never fails to thrill me. The symbolizism is so obvious (new life, fresh start, etc.), it could seem tired. Germination is such a fundamental function of life, it could be easy to take for granted, but it rarely is. The inexplicable joy of a sprouting seed transcends cliche – this tiny miracle never fails to delight.

I’ll be starting more seeds for my vegetable garden in a few weeks – tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, zinnias. I’d like to plant a few metaphorical seeds as well – kernels of self sufficiency, resilience, and empathy in my children being highest on my list. I’m also working on the seeds of a few creative projects- sketches in a notebook, like a tiny plant curled up inside a seed, waiting to unfurl.

Wishing you all, dear readers, the best of luck in planting some seeds of your own, literal or metaphorical.

Weekend Doings

P.S. Linking up with Martha at Weekend Doings for: A picture… a moment. Click through to see her and other beautiful posts!

More is never enough

seed.packs

I’m so excited about my garden, despite the blanket of snow outside my windows. I’ve decided to try winter sowing this year and so I’ve been busy designing and dreaming, scheming and selecting seeds, and potting and planting them up.

In other years, I’ve planted early crops under a cold frame in March, but this year (and I’m a little late for it) I’ve stuck some seeds out in the snow. Here’s how: Save clear-topped plastic containers, order seeds, fill containers with damp soil, sow seeds, close containers (except for air and drainage holes) and place them in a sunny spot, outdoors. That’s the rough plan, anyway, and a reasonable one, at least, according to my internet search and wintersown.org.

planted.seeds

My internet search also yielded the quote, “More is never enough.”  More googling suggests Marty Rubin as the source of this quote. I have no idea who Marty Rubin is, or the context of the original quote, but feel that in the context of garden planning, it could not be more apt.

I am dreaming big right now. With spinach, arugula, water cress, broccoli, parsley, and a some foxglove now winter sown, I’ve also ordered three kinds of tomatoes, beans, squash, carrots, nasturtiums, zinnias and more. A whole colorful summer garden’s worth of seeds.

As I now consider adding shrubs, perennials, and roses, I realize that late winter garden dreaming is the correllary to seasonal garden ennui. Now is the time for ambitious garden planning. Now is the time when more is never enough.

winter.sown

Starting seeds

As I begin this blog, I am thinking of spring, planting some seeds and dreaming of a lush and productive summer vegetable garden. I like to imagine my new garden will look something like this:

7749894.bin

Since my garden is currently covered in snow, I’m using a lot of imagination.

my.garden.under.snow

I’ve been perusing seed catalogues and websites and I finally settled on some seeds. I’ve ordered “pronto” beets, arugula, spinach and “True Siberian” kale to start under a cold frame as soon as the snow melts. I’ve ordered tomatoes (yellow pear, cherry, “stupice”) and “sugar baby” watermelons to start indoors at  the same time.

I can’t wait, but I know half the fun is in the anticipation. Hoping there are good times ahead, both here on this blog and in my garden.