sowing seeds {december 30, 2022}

During this cold, wet, gray winter one of my favorite activities is to...page through seed catalogs.

Yep, I like to read about vegetables. And fruit. And flowers. But it's mostly about the vegetables.

The arrival of a seed catalog is like seeing the top of a crocus poke through the ground. It's a sign that, yes, winter turns into spring.

Paging through a seed catalog is a virtual walk through the verdant and ripe shades of spring and summer. There's a certain calm, meditative quality about this act. Open the catalog. Flip through some pages. Study the differences in the varieties of green beans. Take a sip of tea. Flip a few more pages. Imagine the sweet acidity of all those juicy tomatoes. Flip a few more pages. Gawk at all the sunflowers. Flip. Study. Flip. Sip. Flip. Study.

Picking through these varied options is mind expanding. Who knew there were so many types of carrots? And there are yellow cucumbers! And a rainbow of peppers, hot and sweet! And the tomatoes. The tomatoes. You could spend days studying all the varieties of tomatoes, the different colors, shapes, uses, names, origins, and backstories.

On some fundamental level what seed catalogs are really selling is a chance to be optimistic. I can order these seeds from some far away place, put them in the ground in my backyard, grow the plants, and then eat the produce. A bunch of things have to work out for that tomato to end up on my plate. Taking the chance on it is an act of optimism.

And that's one of the things I've really come to appreciate about gardening. It forces you to plan ahead, nurture something outside yourself, to have hope for the future. The world could use more of all those practices.

It could also use more backyard tomatoes -- whatever the type. Because knowing you grew that tomato yourself will make it taste even sweeter.

Sow seeds wherever you go.