tiny package of miracles
I’ve been doing seedy things this week in preparation for Sunday’s Laytonville Holiday Fair. That’s December 1st, 10-4 at Harwood Hall. The new seeds and I will be at the Garden Club next door, which functions as overflow vendor space and also features Amanda’s great homemade bread and soup.
Seed cleaning has been my favorite meditation — why do I procrastinate? I even enjoyed cleaning lettuce seed — maybe because the Marvel of Four Seasons crop was large enough that I didn’t worry about losing some to the wind. Sifting it through screens, then winnowing with the steady breeze of a fan set on a chair, and finally spreading seed on a shallow pan and lifting away the last fine debris with puffs of breath. All out by the spreading oaks whose last stubborn leaves still hang golden in the thin fall sunlight. It reminded me how I exist to serve these plants, how they’ve lured me in with their exuberant growth and their vibrant tastes and the astonishing miracle of their seeds, tiny hard kernels that carry life into the future.