I Am Become Spring

Last year's poinsettia is blooming now.

I like to say that there is magic in a seed. Plant it, and it will yield any combination of flowers, fruit, root, leaf, and seed that we can enjoy and consume, and it will nourish us. But also, we can save just one seed from that magical plant, and grow another. One plant can make hundreds, or even thousands of itself.

And this is why I grow: it's an act of faith. One gift I've received from growing is a real appreciation for the bleakness of winter. Under cold and snow and mud and stark winter skies, seeds and plants take nourishment from the earth. Dormant is still active; it's just a different pace, a different exchange of energy and nutrients.

Today, it is spring.

Winter is all about growth. 
Having finally connected with this truth, I find myself growing now all year long. Outside, winter vegetables grow (albeit slowly) in their low tunnels. Little carrots, radishes, and beets are all nestling under earth and straw, and the cold does not scare them. Inside, I watch hundreds of tiny seedlings start their journey. They will become nourish us, literally becoming part of me, part of my children, part of my friends. Talk about a Holy Communion.

I am a priestess of husbandry. I hold a seed from last summer's tomato in my hand, and I conjure July.