Propagation

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	“Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders” Henry D. Thoreau, from FAITH IN A SEED What is it that is so magical and wondrous about seed? Perhaps it's that it all starts here – the promise that spring WILL come. Worries of the moment fade quickly to thoughts of new plants to fill gaps in the perennial bed ... cheerful flowers for the wedding bouquet in July ... tomatos for an August family picnic ... herbs for drying to flavour a great winter stew. Such possibilities in those tiny packages! Last year's garden and the entire season ahead is all imagined clearly in those few quiet winter moments when seeds are sown. Those little peat pots are filled with rich soil from last year's compost pile, planted up with seed perhaps passed on by a friend, and given a little water to bring them to life. The circle complete. Secrets, dreams, and promises for the future both near and distant, wrapped up safely in tight shiny coats. Sowing seed is an act of confidence in new beginnings, a bountiful future, and that our faith in some things still being simple and sure is not unfounded. When we have “faith in a seed”, all seems possible. Evelyn	...

	. . . an excerpt from SEEDS by Peter Loewer, where he's reprinted this piece on the "best" potting soil mix for seed starting by Karl Capek “Some people say that charcoal should be added, and others deny it; some recommend a dash of yellow sand because it is supposed to contain iron, while others warn you against it for the very fact that it does contain iron. Others again, recommend clean river sand, others peat alone, and still others sawdust. In short, the preparation of the soil for seeds is a great mystery and a magic ritual. To it should be added marble dust (but where to get it?), three-year-old cow dung (here it is not clear whether it should be the dung of a three-year-old cow or a three year old heap), a handful from a fresh molehill, clay pounded to dust from old pigskin boots, sand from the Elbe (but not from the Vltabva), three year old hotbed soil, and perhaps besides the humus from the golden fern and a handful from the grave of a hanged virgin. All that should be well mixed (gardening books do not say whether at the new moon, or full, or on midsummer night); and when you put this mysterious soil into flower pots (soaked in water, which for three years have been standing in the sun, and on whose bottoms you put pieces of boiled crockery, and a piece of charcoal, against the use of which other authorities, of course, express their opinions) – when you have done all that, and so obeyed hundreds of prescriptions, principally contradicting each other, you may begin the real business of sowing seeds.” Karel Capek, 1936, as it appears in Peter Loewer’s SEEDS