Saturday, August 29, 2009

Seeds

I have an inexplicable fondness for seeds. The down side of this is that I have a few more weeds than I really want. Their seeds were just so fascinating. I want to catch them just before they let go of their parent plant. I am usually unsuccessful.



These seeds are new to me. David is already asking me where I will put the plants that will result from my wanting to see what they do as they mature. Some seeds fluff up and blow in the wind, some spring away from the plant as if the parent plant is eager to send progeny into the world. Some drop their seeds so gracefully keeping their babies sheltered and close to home. Some stick to the gardeners clothing and piggyback to a new home. Some are beloved by ants and are carried to new locations in the garden far from their origin. What kind of seeds will these veratrum plants be?

This is the fourth year in the garden for this plant. We fell for this plant at our one and only trip to the Heronswood garden before it closed. Since then we have seen this plant in damp soil up in the mountains but have never seen it in bloom until this year in our home garden. I had assumed it propagated by roots spreading, but apparently my assumption was wrong. Will these seed pods be as interesting after the seeds have escaped as nigella or primrose seed pods? Will they fling or drop their offspring? How long will it take for the seeds to sprout? Will I recognize them in the garden or just think they are among the myriad weeds that I pull out every year?

Oh, I love the unknown potential, the small moments of discovery and the generosity of seeds.

1 comment:

Hansel said...

This is mary--john's on my computer again--but I LOVE this post about seeds of weeds (and others). I am totally fascinated by weeds. I watch them flourish no matter how hard I work at keeping them away--no matter how many times I pull them up, their offspring come back and grow bigger and stronger than their parents. I want to be more like a weed than a fragile plant. I want to thrive and spread and grow--and ok, maybe drive a gardener crazy (though they'll hopefully admire my tenacity).