Seeds of Spring

by Nancy Lanphear

It is spring where I live.

The light is changing as the sun moves higher in the southern sky. The ground is warming, and the invasive blackberry shoots are waking up more quickly than the spring bulbs. I have begun to remove the leaves that I left blanketing the beds over the winter. I linger a bit and survey how the plants weathered this fickle winter. A few of the older bushes died and will need to be cut back or uprooted. I will miss their delicate white flowers and scent.

I planted peas and spinach seeds a few weeks ago. I was pushing the limits of spring and decided to experiment. I can see a few sprouts and empty places. We are expecting a few warmer days so it should be clear by next week what germinated. My granddaughter, Marley, and I planted a few more peas yesterday. She carefully followed my directions, placing the seed on the surface, and pushing it down just the right amount.

I so appreciate the dirt on my hands and the slow awakening of spring gardening. The work of daily maintenance and watering is still months away.

Now is the time for possibilities, dreaming and hope.

In our Human First Connect contemplative group this week, we spent a few minutes with the question “What seeds are you planting?”

As I clean up the garden, this question stays in my thoughts.

I have begun to stretch the conversation to include more than the act of my planting.

Is it the right time for this seed to emerge?

What are the conditions that may encourage it to break open and thrive?

What else will it compete with for nutrients, water, and sunlight?

What about my own resources? How many new projects and people can I support?

A friend yesterday reminded me that seeds will keep in their package; I can plant them in another season, when it is their time.

Take some time to pause, consider the seeds to plant and to enjoy the sun, warmth, and this season of possibility.