Seeds(or, Tiny Bodies with a Determined Will to Flourish)

Seeds(or, Tiny Bodies with a Determined Will to Flourish) - theHumm June 2021

By Susie Osler

It is mid-May. Late Spring. The air is pulsing with life. The miracle that is migration parades a blessing of beautiful birds back to parks, forests, streets and yards, along with their chorus of songs telling us, again, to listen, look, and revel in Life. Amongst the flurry of feathery delights, another migration of sorts has also been underway. Postmarked packages containing thousands of little genetic bundles criss-cross the continents on flightpaths of their own — from seed producers to the mailboxes of farmers and gardeners awaiting them.

I received my final packets of seeds yesterday — a last minute order from Strictly Medicinal — a small family-owned seed company in Oregon that I love. Pulling small envelopes of seeds from a mailer is, for me, like handling some of the most precious of things. Perhaps because seeds are the most precious things! Think of the ways our lives depend upon seeds — from the food and medicinal plants that build and nourish countless human and more-than human bodies, to the trees and forests, growing from small seeds, that shade the soil, cycle water, and regulate the Earth’s climate.

With boundless vaults of interwebbed information available to us with the click of a button, there still remains the question, How? How does this happen? How is it possible that the tiniest seeds — barely visible in my hand — can produce in a matter of weeks the giant mulleins and tobacco plants that have grown in my garden; that a tiny seed finding a home in a 400-square-foot span of soil may become as individually expressed as a delicate violet, creeping thyme, little bluestem, tomato, elderberry, or ash? With each diagram I see, and description of germination stages, come a million further questions that inevitably lead my mind back to the fundamental question lounging about mischievously in the wings. What is this thing we call “Life”, this intelligence and spirit that animates all beings?

With luck I will finish planting my garden this weekend. May 24, according to the cumulative wisdom of gardeners, is the date in these parts for seeds to be settled into their subterranean destinations. But it feels more like July than May here right now — except that the greens of the landscape are still fresh, varied and vibrant. The temperature reached 29 degrees today, and any patches of unprotected soil lie parched and dusty. Over the past decade erratic weather has become our new “normal”, making common, tried-and-true wisdom somewhat less reliable for both gardener and (I assume) seed alike. Response-ability to new circumstances and conditions is increasingly needed. What elixir of intelligence, resilience and adaptive capacities can be conjured from the crucible of spiraling helixes of genetic information stored within seeds over eons of plant evolution? Will seeds be able to draw on this storehouse of intelligence rapidly and creatively enough to meet the challenges the climate crisis is already presenting?

The heat has dropped with the sun. The early evening air is thickening with lilac vapours that cast an olfactory spell upon me as I traipse off to plant some of these seeds. The garden gate swings open. Kneeling before a bed I pull back a sheet of hay covering the soil. It occurs to me that this spring ritual — planting my garden — is as much a prayer, a summoning for survival, as it is an act of sensual seduction. I open a furrow in the soil, coax tiny pellets of concentrated carrot-ness out of a packet and into the palm of my hand; and then, with the most presence and tenderness I can muster, drop them from my hand, one by one, to meet the soil. May you be safe, May you be happy in your new home. May you have what you need to thrive. May you become the fullest expression of your particular self, and may I tend to you well.

As I cover the seeds lightly with soil, water seeps through fissures far below my feet, into the well, and is pushed out through a hose in a spray of droplets that fan across the bed, soaking the soil, and sending a signal for germination to begin. Water, soil, sun, air, seeds… and will... are the symbiotic ingredients that support the astonishing diversity of beings with whom we inhabit this planet. Ponder the magic of seeds: their tiny bodies, their genetic contents, their creative genius, and their determined will to flourish. Isn’t it all — I mean everything the natural world presents to us — worthy of worship?

I sit here, paused in front of the screen, staring off into space. My tongue herds a bite of carrot over to my teeth, persuading pieces to this side or that, to be masticated and then swallowed. The texture of the carrot’s orange meat is a bit spongier after months in storage, yet its sweetness — though diminished — still remains. The carrot descends into the dark innerworld of me. And so begins an incorporation — the carrot’s particular bundles of nutrients transported from its flesh into mine. So ordinary, and yet such a profound gift! I resolve with renewed commitment to attend to the life in those newly planted seeds in hopes that, with some blessings from the Weather and Garden Spirits, they will thrive and offer their nourishment back to me next winter.

Frank Sammut —Fine Wood Working - theHumm June 2021

By Sally Hansen

Art… and Soul

Kokopelli Custom Woodworking is Frank Sammut’s celebration of the natural beauty and wonder encapsulated in the trees that fall on his 87 acres of bush lot near Maberly. His lifelong fondness for working with his hands has culminated in a passion for creating one-of-a-kind pieces of furniture that showcase nature’s beauty. Wood speaks to him. And he creates poetry in response.

Frank’s artistic tables and benches are as much sculptures as the......

Seeds(or, Tiny Bodies with a Determined Will to Flourish) - theHumm June 2021