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Six Messages from a Wild Garden

Message 1: Seeds


Garden scene of tall foxgloves in shaes of pink, with beans, weeping Japanese mulberry tree, blue sky, corner of a wooden house, and an older man in a hat looking around.
Rob in the garden at Evergreen, almost dwarfed by self-sown foxgloves.

When I spend time in my garden on the south coast of Western Australia, it tells me about six things that start with the letter ‘S’.

 

Seeds. Seasons. Sunshine. Soil. Suffering. Sweetness.

 

Today I want to share my garden’s message about Seeds.

 

Seeds

 

My garden is wild. More than half of it is self-sown.

 

I watch the incredible cycle of seeds unfold through the seasons.

 

A seed sends out roots and tiny leaves. Then it shoots up beneath the sun, flowers, produces an incredible number of its own seeds, then holds them up as an offering to the sky before releasing them to the whimsy of wind, which blows them where it wills.

 

So, each year, untamed nature changes my garden layout.

 

This year, spinach plants pop up between alyssum and lobelias. Lettuce seedlings nestle under roses. Hollyhocks thrust their way between banana palm leaves, foxgloves tower in every flowerbed, and chicory plants which flourished beside the bean frame last year now rise from the ground in a line by the lower fence.

 

A spinach plant between white alyssum and blue lobelias.
A self-sown spinach popping up between alyssum and lobelias.

 

Sometimes I collect seeds to share with family and friends. I snip off a dried seed head, take it inside, shake it into a basin, then pour the seeds that fall out into a little paper envelope which I label. What amazes me every time is the size of the seeds. Some of them are so tiny I can’t pick them up.


Life Lessons from a Seed

 

This yearly display of the ingenuity, resilience and unstoppable daring of seeds teaches me two things about life and about myself.

 

 

  • Everything starts small.

  • I already have all that I need.

 

 

Everything Starts Small

 

The universe started from an extremely hot, dense point.

 

Rome started with one foundation stone.

 

A giant oak grows from an acorn only one centimeter wide.

 

A pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago begins with the first step.

 

I began as an egg 0.1 mm in diameter, which is approximately the width of a strand of human hair. And look at me now!

 

 

I Already Have All That I Need

 

The initial hot, dense point held everything the universe needed to keep expanding.

 

The first foundation stone of Rome carried the impetus for the next stone, and the next, to be laid.

 

The potential for an oak tree to grow 40 metres high is held within its tiny, shiny seed.

 

The commitment to walk, seeded by the first step taken by a pilgrim, flows through until the last step.

 

Since conception, I have had within me everything I need to be myself.

 

You have within you everything you need to be yourself.

 

Life is a daily invitation to release our inbuilt resilience, ingenuity and unstoppable daring.

 

With love, Marlane

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