We only have this moment

Musings on sowing seeds, staying present and finding joy in the winter garden.

I’m the kind of person who could easily live in a state of waiting and anticipation for the future. In fact, it’s something that’s brought me a lot of anxiety and unhappiness in the past. This notion of “I’ll be happy when…” or “It will be okay when…” can easily consume me and suck the joy out of the here and now.

I’ve caught myself doing a lot of waiting this week. Waiting for warmer weather, lighter nights, plants and flowers and days in the garden. I can’t deny I’m excited for spring, but if I spend all my days waiting, I’m missing the joy in the now.

The Instagram gardening community seems to have exploded with people sowing seeds. With many others voicing their opinions about why it’s too early to start. Whoever would have thought something so simple could be so divisive?

I don’t really have an opinion either way on when is the right time, but I will share my own plan for seed sowing this year.

I was lucky enough to be given a voucher for my local garden centre as a birthday gift from a friend, so I opted to use it to get a selection of seeds. The top row are all annuals and the bottom a selection of perennial flowers and grasses. As well as those in the photo, I also have nigella, scabious, cosmos, poppy, mallow, clary and cornflower seeds that were either left over from last year or collected in the autumn.

With the exception of the sweet peas, which I plan on sowing next week, I intend leaving everything else until at least the middle of March. Last year I was too keen, high on the anticipation of a garden full of flowers, I started late February and really wished I hadn’t. With only a “zippy” greenhouse that really doesn’t like the wind, I felt like the whole of my early spring was spent pandering to needy seedlings, rotating them around the best spots on the windowsills in an attempt to keep them from becoming leggy.

I actually love the process of seed sowing. Taking my time to notice each seed, how it looks and feels. Marvelling in the potential it holds within itself. It really is quite incredible. I find it such a calming and therapeutic task to focus my attention on, so rather than rush I’m reminding myself the experience will be that much more enjoyable if I wait and take my time.

Growing cut flowers was a first for me last year. I’ve grown from seed before, but nothing more than sunflowers, dahlias or a handful of busy lizzies sprinkled hastily over a pot. With annual cut flowers there was a lot more planning involved. Or at least the benefit of hindsight tells me there should have been. There was something special about nurturing tiny seedlings, knowing the beauties they would eventually become. But there was an element of frustration too. The usual lull in colour between the tulips and the rest of the summer flowers felt longer than ever and for a while I found myself feeling quite impatient, telling myself “the garden will look lovely when…” The very mindset I want to avoid.

This year I’m taking a slightly different approach. I still plan on growing lots of flowers from seed, but they’ll be planted differently. Interspersed between grasses and perennials, so the garden has colour and interest for more of the growing season. I’m enjoying the planning process a lot more this year too. I feel less impatient, less in a rush for the end result and more focused on just enjoying the journey. Given the right conditions, everything will bloom in its own time. A reminder I think we all need from time to time, right?

I garden first and foremost for my wellbeing. I remember going through a bad spell of anxiety a few years back. I was always stuck in my own head, overthinking, analysing and worrying. At the time, my youngest and I would go every Tuesday for lunch and to soft play at the garden centre. He used to love looking at the water features, so as we wandered I would be filled with inspiration to transform our sad patch of lawn plus trampoline, into something a bit more grown up.

Back then my “gardening” typically consisted of buying a plant on a Tuesday, then returning the following week and replacing said plant because I’d somehow managed to kill it in just a few days! But I remember very clearly the moment when I’d been busy doing some planting and it suddenly dawned on me, I wasn’t in my head. My mind was quiet and I was entirely focused on what I was doing.

This is why I’m trying very hard not to fall back into the trap of waiting to find the joy in my garden. I know there are so many things to look forward to in the spring, but when I stay present there is so much beauty to be found right now too.

Last weekend, before the cold weather hit, I made a start on my secret door project. If you’ve no idea what I’m talking about, I shared in last week’s journal how I plan on adding some magic and whimsy to the garden in the form of a secret door. I created the pathway that will lead up to the gate, which involved shifting a whole lot of gravel and moving some heavy rocks. It was a very physical job but it got me moving, kept me warm and as I worked a little Robin stayed close, no doubt in the hope I might unearth some tasty worms or other treats.

There’s so much to like about the garden during winter. I haven’t tidied any of the beds, so there are seed heads, grasses and fallen leaves, all providing shelter for insects and wildlife. I love to see the structure of the garden, stripped back to its bare bones. It’s quite a small plot so it’s fascinating to get a sense of the space that’s available and be able to come up with ideas about how I can maximise on planting.

I think that’s my favourite thing about gardening. Not only do I love the activity, but I’m also creating my own little sanctuary to escape to when I need a moment of calm.

My gardening efforts were cut short this week by the arrival of snow. As beautiful as it looks I won’t be sad to see the back of it as I have quite a gardening to-do list to get through before the end of March.

I hope you’re able to find some winter joy in your own garden this week. Can you relate to the feeling of waiting too?

Until next week,

Claire x