Not much amazes me anymore. I mean, with a husband, two kids, cats, chickens, travel, family, the Las Vegas strip, friends, Metallica concerts, car accidents and generally just being surrounded by life, I have seen a lot.
What still amazes me? The two top things are snowflakes and seeds. One of my favorite things to do is stand outside wearing a dark colored sweater during the day when it is snowing. Not in a blizzard, but just light little flakes. I hold out my arm, collect some samples, and spend the next few minutes with my face inches from my sleeve, marveling at each exquisitely intricate pattern. How is that possible for something so small and random and one of trillions to be so perfect and unique and detailed in its pointed tips and starry centers.
|I will most likely never have to buy marigold seeds again.|
The amount of seed from just one flower can produce a whole row of plants next spring.
And seeds. Seeds amaze me. Every year I still marvel over the possibilities that exist in each paper packet. Seeds are amazing things. That something this light and small, when planted in rich dark soil and tended by our hands, can produce a bounty that can sustain us for a season and more. I have a huge box of seeds that I love to sort through, organizing and prioritizing, for the next season. It seems like the closest thing to a miracle that one small dry bean can give me jars and jars of canned string beans or that 3 or 4 big orange fall pumpkins can come from a mound of dirt with a few flat, oval seeds pushed into it the previous spring. Possibilities and promise are what I see when I look at my seedling trays under the grow lights in March.
I started saving seed this year just to see if I could do it. I started small - beans and some flowers.
Now I am hooked.
The knowledge that after a small initial investment, I can save the seed from my garden, preserve it, and plant it again the next season is very empowering. It is the most perfect example of self sufficiency that I can think of.
|macro of clematis seeds|