Seed gazing

1st quarter to full moon: 10th-17th

Sowing above-ground crops

Sowing seeds is an exercise in patience, faith, and a raft of other very virtuous qualities I'm sure. It also makes me feel like a small child in the back of a car asking "Are we there yet?" every three minutes for the entirety of a four hour drive.

It's that marvellous anticipation that makes me go back again and again to just look at my newly sown seeds, to watch the flat fresh compost and visualise the first tiny hooks of green nosing up. I call it seed gazing. It's a compulsion, a childish impatience, but at the same time I think I sort of believe it helps. Perhaps those winter-sown seeds need that extra energy and attention to coax them out in the depths of the cold dark winter. By the time spring comes and I'm sowing seeds every day, along with all the other work to be done, there is simply no time or inclination to peer at egg trays of soil for long stretches. But by that time the sun is warmer and does the coaxing for me.

At this time of year I feel a touch of what I felt as the mother of newborn babies: deep and focused attention on the nurturing of new life. I even put my propagator 'to bed' each night in the babies' room: the warmest place in the house overnight.

Now, away to see if any of the seeds I started yesterday have sprouted yet.