Plant One Seed
I didn’t sleep well last night. Happily dozing on the sofa. Got into bed and voila! On-and-off awake, asleep, uncomfortable, wrong temperature, not the right blanket, too dark, noise, an indistinguishable noise, then someone’s dog in the distance – probably barking at the indecipherable noise because he couldn’t sleep either.
I got up in a bit of a frump, but I don’t want that to define my day. The sun is (thankfully) shining this 7 a.m., and I have bigger plans in store.
I am a seed thief and today is planting day.
For the past three years, I have been cutting the heads off other peoples’ flowers. Strolling along sidewalks and streets. Calmly slipping the clippers out of my pocket. Snip! And dropping the heads into paper sandwich bags. Moving along, sometimes with a nod and a smile to those who have seen me and wondered what was up. (Kevin, of course, is not a very surreptitious thief. He openly tells people what we’re doing! AND: he offers to share the seeds!)
Planting a seed is perhaps the oldest trick in the book when it comes to comforting yourself. Absolutely, you can short-cut and grab a potted plant from even the produce aisle in the grocery store, and having a mint plant on your window sill to snip a leaf to drop into your tea is a top-shelf plan. Finally transplant the one house plant that is thriving, in spite of our lack of green thumbs. Ask a neighbor if she has any plants she’d like you to adopt.
What I’m talking about is a little more primal. Have you grown a plant from a seed? Seen it push upwards through the dirt? Uncurl? Sprout up in a burst without you seeing it? It’s somewhat 9th grade high school biology films, followed by bean seeds in waxed paper Dixie cups on a window ledge, without the plants ever reaching maturity or yielding beans.
The seed thief idea was born out of being ever-frugal and aiming for success in the garden. My rationale that first year was people just cut down their ‘dead’ plants and throw them away – so why not pinch the seeds and save them from the rubbish tip? Very environmentally-conscious. My logic was that if plants were thriving in a neighbor’s yard, then they must be suitable for our local climate and of the good stock that would propagate. Smart girl!
Turns out, it’s not as easy to grow flowers as Mother Nature makes it look. I am not aware of having grown a single plant — yet.
The first year, I did everything right. I weeded a patch. I turned the dirt. I moved a few rocks. I evenly sprinkled the seeds. I covered them with a lovely layer of top soil. And two evenings later, I came home to deer, bedded down exactly upon my patch. Hmmmm. I hoped their body warmth might germinate the seeds? Nope. And it didn’t rain for a week.
Second year, tried another patch. Some popped up, then failed, because there wasn’t enough sunlight as the sun shifted in relationship to the trees.
Year three? My theory is the seeds hadn’t wintered over properly. Nothing.
That brings me to today. I have two Ball jars of seeds, covered in brown paper, stored in my kitchen cupboard, ready to go. Plus: I cheated. I sprinkled in two teaspoons of store-bought seeds. “Scientific,” I’m calling it, so that I have a work-against on whether the problem is in my seed storage method.
I’m still tired. On the edge of feeling cranky. Definitely wanting to go back to sleep. But, the forecast is sunshine this morning, turning to clouds, then two days of 80% chance of rain. These are the days Mother Nature is planting seeds as the pods burst open and She waters Her garden to borough down those seeds, tidy and warm, to await Her cue that spring is at last coming to these mountains.
Isn’t this what is needed in our lives? To be recalibrating back to Nature. To breathe deeply and in a rhythm brought on by our bodies moving, outside, tilling even two feet long of soil with a hand trowel, in a valiant attempt to contribute to the beauty we see in our day. To take a moment to drink water. To listen to the chipmunks calling to each other from one side of the yard to the other.
It may not work - yet, again. We may have to experiment a bit and maybe more than ‘a bit.’ Patience and a little longer outlook with a dash of hope may be required right at the moment we’re too tired to reach inside ourselves to find it.
But, we have a ready-made partner: that little seed wants to live and flourish and bloom.
And so do we. When it comes right down to it. So do we. We wouldn’t be getting upset, frustrated, worn out, and discombobulated if we didn’t. Let’s step ourselves into Nature. Just one seed. Just one potted plant. Just one plant anywhere in our orbit that we can help to thrive. That’s how we nourish and grow ourselves.
