For 6 years I’ve planted vegetables in my front yard. After all this time I still have an uneasy relationship with seeds. I worry about planting them too deep, too shallow, too close. I guess I could take a ruler outside or keep notes on what works from season to season so I could become more proficient at seed planting. Instead I just live in vague apprehension of planting poorly and conversely, vague hope that things will work out. Each time I plant a seed it is with dubious anticipation and each time something sprouts I am delighted. Same thing. Six years. Over and over.
That is why I love this sunflower.
Among my tomatoes, a random, accidental seed germinated into this tall beauty. I did not plant it too deep, too shallow, too close. No vague apprehension or hope accompanied its placement in the soil. It just grew, on its own. It feels like a gift from the universe, bubbling laughter from the garden gods.
"And faith is the awareness that creation is the gift that keeps on giving." Walter Brueggemann