I often think back to the first time I started to grow something from a seed. Honestly, I remember it quite well. It was an exhilarating, terrifying, joyous rollercoaster all wrapped up into one big ole emotional mess.
I felt extremely unqualified to start my own seeds, it was something I imagined only the “professional gardeners” did. But, there is something utterly captivating about a seed catalog filled with the most vibrant spring colors and varieties from around the world that will grab you in the dead of winter.
Friends, let me tell you, I fell into this hard, and it was just the beginning. I researched more than I ever did in college, rummaged through every seed packet and catalog I had around, and felt like I was going to, for the first time, start my seeds successfully that would eventually be grown in my garden. So, like a real amateur, I bought all the things. Some things I needed, many I did not. Let’s just say I bought enough seeds the first year to last me at least five. Then, the real work began. I had to figure out what to do with all of them. One thing I realized is that I bought varieties that I didn’t even plan on putting in my garden.
Now, back to the amateur thing. Although I had studied and done all the research, I still had never done this before. I didn’t realize the light requirements when starting seeds in January. I wasn’t aware that some seeds prefer extra heat, provided through a heat mat. Through all the chaotic madness that sprung forth in my greenhouse that dreary winter, I vividly remember that first sprouted seedling, leggy, weak, and the most beautiful thing I thought I had ever seen.
Isn’t it funny how much we rejoice over the little things when we’ve put so much of our energy and determination into them?
It was a beautiful day and well worth celebrating. The beauty I found in that small sprout, the hope I had in myself, the food it was going to produce for my family, and the joy it was going to bring me every time I stepped out into my garden, at that moment, was well worth all the hours in the greenhouse, and time second-guessing myself.
I write this to encourage you, the gardener in the making. You can do it. You can start your seeds, it doesn’t have to be fancy, and you don’t even have to know what you are doing. Just start and have a slight bit of faith in yourself and the determination to see it through.
Some may have greenhouses and pots galore, and others may start their seeds in a window sill in solo cups. The beauty in this is that there isn’t a right or wrong. There are no black thumbs and bad gardeners. You need to provide your plants or seedlings with what they need to thrive; sunlight, water, and good soil. Pretty simple right?
Trust me, if I can start seeds, so can you!