Community Garden: Seeds


Our planet is home to some truly incredible things.

Wide, wild oceans full of life both familiar and mysterious. Weather as balmy and blissful as sliding into sleep, and weather more destructive than any machine conceived by humans. Lush forests, scorched desert sands, and iced peaks extending to the very limits of our reach.

But despite these mighty landscapes, I am equally, or perhaps more, impressed by seeds. These tiny, humble vessels of plant life hold within them delicate flowers, towering trees, and of course, the many many many foods we eat.

Our February community garden meeting hailed the arrival of the seeds ordered in bulk by our garden coordinator. Just a fraction of the order was put on the table; the seeds ready for planting, both indoors and out, as the weather in North Carolina begins to warm. Each gardener took a turn examining the varieties available and carefully pouring their share of seeds into tiny envelopes, and a sense of anticipation filled the room.

I can see how dangerous seed catalogs must be, especially for a novice gardener like myself. The ten or so varieties I gathered from the meeting will more than fill my beds for the spring, but that doesn’t stop me wanting more. I should plant potatoes! I want 10 rows of peas! I’ll feed our little household for a year on nothing but veggies from my 80 square feet of soil!

Not really. Not yet.

But it’s fun to think about, and every season of planting teaches me new lessons for future gardens I may tend. I’m even trying my hand at jump-starting some seeds that are too tender, as of yet, to plant outdoors, in a tiny plant nursery in my apartment.

In a perfect world, this little tray of soil could sit in a sunny windowsill, safe from the cold that thwarts seedlings as night but basking in the sunshine of the clear February days. Unfortunately, this world is not perfect (shocker), so these seeds will have to make due with a grow light perched above them.

Last year’s attempt at a little nursery like this was an utter failure. I’m hoping for better luck this time around.

And the seeds outside? Well, despite the little reaches into 70 degree weather we’ve had in the last couple weeks, I have still been preparing myself for garden failure at the mere thought of tucking the little seeds under a half inch of earth, giving them a quick shower, and then waiting to see if they make it.

But as they have done for eons, these crafty little guys have already started to emerge.

Pure. Magic.