I did it again—I planted seeds. And as much as it seems like an invitation to failure, I put those seeds in the ground.
Starting is easy, but seeing it through is the real challenge.
Why do I keep planting when I know I will need to focus on this effort for the next few months?
The blossoms’ beauty outweighs the daily gardening maintenance, so I persist.
When the light lengthens and the day warms, I imagine the beauty of color and form again. I have some favorites: the easy-to-bloom flowers, the flowers I am willing to put in the trouble for, and the flowers I see the beauty in that I just don’t remember the prior experience, so I plant it again.
I keep the harvest in mind. The bloom. It is my wiring to look ahead.
Once you plant the seed in the ground, there is no return to the seed. It is going to keep on going. Some things are like that: once begun, there is no turning back.
That seed will move ahead and is fantastically fast at first. Within days you see something poking up out of the dirt.
The middle is always messy. Do I pinch? Do I transplant? Do I harden before putting it directly in the soil? Have I cleared enough space for the transplant? Did I consider the light needs?
One day, even though you’ve been waiting weeks for it, the bloom emerges. While the wait feels slow when the flowers arrive, the beauty of their presence erases the wait.
Many of my blog posts start like seeds. I jot down my thoughts and leave the post in its beginning stage unpublished for the hidden work of mulling and coming together in ways that aren’t visible. I haven’t failed if the seed never germinates or if the draft is never published. It’s the work of planting that ensures that one day, because of the attempts, something will bloom, and it will be worth the wait.
Gardener’s NOTE: Most of the flowers above are bulbs or perennials, but the lower right is one of the seeds for which I am still waiting for the blossom.