If you’re looking for miracles in your life, plant some seeds. Seriously.
About 60 days ago, in the pot of my oldest dracaena I poked a series of holes in the soil, dropped some hard dull round seeds into those holes and covered them over with dirt. Almost every day, I made sure that dirt was a little wet, by my hand or Nature’s. And when we were lucky, there was sunshine, too.
The leaves appeared first, of course, which was exciting enough at the time. They always seem to arrive about the time you’ve almost decided to give up on them, so its a big deal when they sprout. And then there were more leaves and so on. But that was nothing like the last two mornings, when the first of the nasturtiums came so vividly into bloom in the early morning sunshine.
That something so lovely comes from those hard little seeds, some rain and a little sunshine, well, that’s something pretty amazing in my book.
Folks have been waxing poetic about flowers forever now, and you can totally see why. First, there’s the vivid color range and the frothy, frilly silliness of the blossoms, the climbing/cascading form the plants will create as they grow, those terrific leaves, so different from any others in nearby pots. There’s really nothing nasty about nasturtiums.
But then look closer, and see all those ridges and stripes and color gradations for what they are: clever landing lights reflecting sunlight back to pollinators’ eyes in vivid patterns, guiding them into the center of the flower where the nectar (and the pollen) are waiting.
And when those bees and flies and wasps (and I expect the darker flowers might even attract those hummingbirds I see darting about now and then) start visiting other flowers and leaving some pollen as they gather more, well, that’s when the real magic happens and suddenly we’ve got more of those boring little seeds with such great potential.
Hey, but nobody wants to sing anything from “Grease 2“, so we’ll leave the lesson there and just enjoy the flowers.
Pretty fancy from a two dollar packet of seeds, huh?