I recently went to the local garden centre & found myself in the seed section. There was quite a cluster of people around the beautifully presented seed packets. All present had a serious air of deliberate selection and anticipation. There was no frivolity, nothing remotely light & fluffy about this cluster of gardeners, more of an earthy, deep focus, like growing roots.
.
I bought 4 packets of seeds that instructed the gardener to plant them indoors in February. It's only a few weeks away but I am so impatient, impatient for the smell of damp soil hugging the dry sleeping seeds. Impatient to make those anxious, excited visits, many times a day to check the precious pots. Eager to feel the anticipation of those first probing shoots, then the unfurling soft leaves. To have the simple pleasure of reading & re-reading the the seed packets & envisaging the fully grown plants in glorious leaf & flower. With all this comes some anxiety, has all been done as instructed by the packet, and what should be done to avert mishaps or illness to the courageous protoplant on it's phenomenal journey from unremarkable seed to voluptuous bloom.
.
Those unremarkable seeds are magical things sustaining gardeners through the cold winter chill that lies ahead after all the glitter of the mid-winter festivities have passed & been put away in boxes - their seed packets - ready to sprout & bloom next December.
.
I wonder, are we - the planters -helping the seeds grow the way they grow, because we so strongly hold their final images in our heads. What a responsibility. Are we seed growers the 21st century's elementals - the fairies & gnomes so loved of fairy tales & myths. What happens when the wrong seeds are put in the wrong packet? Nature must have a back-up plan, after all a majority of seeds grow quite happily without an anxious garden present.
..
I bought 4 packets of seeds that instructed the gardener to plant them indoors in February. It's only a few weeks away but I am so impatient, impatient for the smell of damp soil hugging the dry sleeping seeds. Impatient to make those anxious, excited visits, many times a day to check the precious pots. Eager to feel the anticipation of those first probing shoots, then the unfurling soft leaves. To have the simple pleasure of reading & re-reading the the seed packets & envisaging the fully grown plants in glorious leaf & flower. With all this comes some anxiety, has all been done as instructed by the packet, and what should be done to avert mishaps or illness to the courageous protoplant on it's phenomenal journey from unremarkable seed to voluptuous bloom.
.
Those unremarkable seeds are magical things sustaining gardeners through the cold winter chill that lies ahead after all the glitter of the mid-winter festivities have passed & been put away in boxes - their seed packets - ready to sprout & bloom next December.
.
I wonder, are we - the planters -helping the seeds grow the way they grow, because we so strongly hold their final images in our heads. What a responsibility. Are we seed growers the 21st century's elementals - the fairies & gnomes so loved of fairy tales & myths. What happens when the wrong seeds are put in the wrong packet? Nature must have a back-up plan, after all a majority of seeds grow quite happily without an anxious garden present.
Not long now til February. To curb my impatience I'll plant up a winter hanging basket & keep checking my outdoor bulbs.
