Seeds, along with hope, were ordered a few weeks back. My mom and I cleaned up the basement last weekend, and man oh man am I starting to envision the season. I long for the sweet taste of the first Cherokee Purple tomato. What I wouldn't give for the crunch of a green bean or cucumber. I can't wait to stick my face in a bush full of basil. But in order to have those things, we must first start with the seed. What holds more hope in life than a seed? So tiny, so full of potential...
Today, in our Rebel Roots Garden Club meeting, we talked about seeds. We talked about the joys and the heartaches of being responsible for a living thing. We lamented over the strong desire to just go play in the dirt. And in these moments, I realized we were talking about bigger things than just the physical seeds. My hope is that there was a seed being planted in each one of these kids. Something that, many years down the line, sprouts into a desire to care about their surroundings, care about where their food comes from, care about looking after those who inhabit our communities. I left that meeting so abuzz about the season to come, so excited that I was finally seeing through a dream. Bringing the joy of growing, of tending plants, to teenagers is something I feel so very privileged to be tasked with. Certainly, I won't be reaching the entire student body. But to be able to show someone how a potato grows...to get them to try kale for the first time...to get them to think about where their food comes from and the very real people who grow it for them is simply amazing. I can't wait to see where this season takes us.
It was a great day today. There was a wonderful meeting with students. I was able to share a seed catalogue and help plan out a garden with a coworker. And finally, I was interviewed by a lovely woman named Amy from the online book publishing site Blurb. Three years ago, I took my postings from this site, along with pictures from the season, and made a beautiful book to commemorate a summer that I felt would be a turning point in my life (I was right about that). I looked at that book today and was awestruck by just how far we've come over the last four years. It was incredible. Well, anyways, Amy had contacted me about being featured on the Blurb website and in a newsletter on books about gardening. We had a lovely conversation, and I was blown away by how complimentary she was not just about my book, but also about this grand thing I've committed my life to. It's not all the time that you get the validation of a complete stranger that you're on the right path and that you've done some impactful things. In the dead of winter, with concerns about frost lines...bugs...length of growing season...viability of seeds...soil heath all dancing in my head, it was a needed boost to get moving and to start dreaming yet again. Because someone's gotta do the dreaming and the reaching, or you'll stay stuck where you are forever. Cheers, everybody, to the beginning of an even bigger and better season.
Allison
The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body, but the soul. -Alfred Austin