Small Miracles on the Cusp of Spring

The kitchen, where all useful work is accomplished, is full of seed packets. They litter every flat spot in the room with their tender promises. It can mean only one thing. The invigorating kiss of spring is not far off.

For nearly a quarter century, I have haunted this kitchen accompanied with unlikely packets from which seeds spills wantonly on the counters. The seeds become familiar companions as I teeter on the cusp of spring. It is at this time of year that I become acutely aware of the trembling life that is within me, as well as in the seed. I am overtaken with an inner excitement like no other, except, perhaps, the birth of a child.

The packets and the cloth bags filled with seeds perch on the counter awaiting the moment they are casually sown into short rows pressed into the dark peat moss that fills the plastic flats. Soon they are watered and put away in a sunless place where they come into renewed life and eventually begin their short, fruitful dance with the summer sun.

Humans are not the only creatures who react to the sun and seeds. The other morning I entered the kitchen and found my cat Sabina on top of a cloth bag of Italian parsley seeds. She had her front legs around the bag and for all the world it appeared that she was hugging it. As she licked the coarse fabric, she purred loudly. I do not know from where her sudden passion for parsley sprang, but in this unrestrained amorous moment, my cat and I shared a common obsession.

For all the wonder aglow in the garden at this time of year, other emotions less uplifting are also present. There is occasionally confusion and anger hidden in the dark center of the seeds. These negative emotions are summonded when the seed, ardently sought and so joyfully purchased, turns out to produce not the plant desired but some unknown, unwanted rogue. Whether these are mistakes of nomenclature or unannounced substitutions by wiely seedsmen, is difficult to determine. The end result is the same: I pay for seed that produces plants I didn't want and often don't know what they are. Sometimes these mix-ups can be found in the lovely pictures in seed catalogs. Unfortunately, only a few experts can spot these fakes before the seeds are purchased.

The time of the seed is short and it is frequently wet and cold with only hope to inspire the gardener. While short, the seed is humble with only a short moment of glory. Soon the seed is eclipist by the plant, overtaken by hot summer sun and a season ladden with fruits and vegetables and the glorious scents of herbs.

No two summers are ever the same and the challenges, as tough as they sometimes are, do not fail to diminish the enthusiasm and pleasure of biting into the first warm tomato of summer. It is in this fruitful time that we should once again worship the seed, because it is produced from this vegetative and herbal bounty.

I am 58 years old, not empty yet and still full of wonder, as I sprinkle the tiny seeds in the straight rows of the plastic flats for yet another year. The air, the sun, and the tiny, hard objects full of secrets and their special mystery, beckon me to explore again those fresh, amazing packets full of what we call seeds, but which are actually tender life itself, and life giving when harvested from the garden.

--Tom DeBaggio