GOING TO SEED

In his later years my dad was concerned about “going to seed”.

Well into his 80’s he was trying to keep the same pace of his busy life.

His theory was if  ” I sit down I’ll go to seed.”

Not something a farmer was interested in doing.

Parkinson’s disease slowed his pace but it never
stopped him.

The truth is his mind was a fertile seed bed.

Ideas grew there for almost 9 decades.

On a Thursday in September he called a meeting of long time trusted associates.

He traveled out-of-town to attend.

The topic was his latest idea to improve his beloved state.

He reminded them that he wouldn’t be around forever and that someone needed to take charge of this project.

A seed planted.

He died early the next Tuesday morning.

Having never gone to seed!

What a gift to him – to us.

But going to seed is in some ways a good thing.

A way forward.

A continuation.

Of ideas.

Of plants.

And that’s how it is in my garden.

Much of it goes to seed this time of year.

As I walk through the path the soft fern like leaves of spring’s Larkspur

Now rattle like a morocco.

It’s time.

Pull them up.

Cut them down.

Shake a few into the garden for next year.

Think forward.

“To everything there is a season.”

The 3 day 4^th of July weekend was spent doing just this.

Rising early I pulled up a mountain of Larkspur plants.

Next I cut the tall stems of Hollyhock to the ground.

Separating the pink from the red – I hope.

Then a little aggressive cutting back of purple Veronica Spicata.

Followed by the Purple Coneflower.

And presto!

More open spaces for the last of the zinnia seeds.

And just in time for my self imposed deadline of the 4^th!

Life is good!

So now the question of what to do with all those seed bearing plants.

Can’t compost them because it doesn’t get hot enough to actually kill the seed.

And too much of a good thing in the garden is well….a mess.

I’ll first let them finish drying.

On the floor of my garden house.

Outside on my old potting bench tucked into a shady corner.

Then, I’ll harvest some.

This year the rest are going to my sister Ann.

She’s just finished lots of work on the dam of the “big pond”.

It’s totally bare.

After a little ground work she’s going to spread them out and see what happens.

A wild idea.

The kind Daddy would like.

Gail