It is April 14th. A seedling has sprouted over the past few days.
The coleus is only a tiny dot at this point. Also, since I last posted, I decided to grow a few poppy seeds that have been sitting in my car since last Fall. I stole a small seed pod from an acquaintance’s garden. I kept them in my car, in a small cup in my car’s driver’s side door. I sprinkled a few seeds around places where I’ve parked my car. I figured I would never see anything grow, but I liked the idea of drive-thru gardening. But here they are now, eagerly sprouting.
I picked up the coleus seeds I originally ordered. I told the UPS clerk that the little package she handed me had seeds. The lady standing next to me in line asked me what kind of seeds they were. I showed her the package. She gave me a subtle patronizing look and said, “Oh I know those. I buy them in pots at Fred Meyer.” She left with a friendly, uninterested smile.
Growing a few ordinary plants from a seed isn’t interesting. You can scatter seeds from an airplane and never look back. Or you can let nature do its own thing. Plants have been planting themselves for a while now. But I’m not here to plant seeds. I’m here to grow a story and reap metaphors. Also, consider the cliche:
It’s not what you do. It’s how you do it.
I say that I’m not planting anything interesting, but a friend saw my previous post and sent me three rare anthurium seeds for my birthday. If I can successfully grow them, that will be considered a reasonable achievement among hobbyist indoor gardeners. It’s funny how it works. One minute you’re trying to grow a few seeds and then the next you’re looking at grow lights and thermostats.