Seedlings
To anyone who isn't a gardening addict, this may sound crazy, but every time a bright green seedling emerges from a seed I've planted, I feel such a sense of awe and wonder. That such a tiny seed could hold so much magic. A miniature miracle.
Last weekend I spent a few extremely happy hours filling seedling trays with soil and shaking seeds from packets out into my hand before sewing them into the small squares. It sounds silly but this act was the culmination of months of preparation. The winnowing down of choices from the seed catalogs. The excitement when the packets finally arrived. Then the waiting until the final frost date was FINALLY only weeks away. It felt so lovely to get to DO instead of merely plan.
I love the smell of the wet seedling mix almost as much as the wonder of discovering what each new variety of vegetable seed looks like! I had to sit for a moment as the understanding that (at 40 years of age) I was JUST now learning what a rhubarb seed looked like. It makes me feel so blessed to get to plant the seeds that will grow into plants to feed my family, and the animals that will grow to feed all of you that are supporting our endeavors here on the farm.
Honestly, I hesitated a bit before posting this blog. Fearful that someone might read it and find me to be overly sentimental or ridiculous for caring so much about seeds and dirt. But I'm posting it anyway because my hope is that someone else will see my heart and understand that simple pleasures deserve to be dwelled upon and glorified, and that perhaps it will inspire others to go plant a rhubarb seed ... just so they can say they now know what it looks like.
