Stor Siolta

Last February, Irish Seed Savers, sent me a package of "Shirley Poppy" seeds along with my spring seed order, three apple trees, two varieties of Jerusalem Artichokes, and 6 varieties of seed potatoes. I didn't think much about them until the spring planting was in full swing. In fact I didn't think much about anything except digging and sowing seeds for two full months--especially my vegetables and herbs from "Tamar Organics" in Cornwall and the 60 bareroot trees that I'd ordered in February from "Future Forests" in Cork-- all of which had to be planted by May; but, only on days with no wind and no rain. This is Ireland. It's emerald color has more to do with rainfall than photosynthesis. I live on the West Coast. Three out of seven days can "involve" gale force winds between November and April. These trees are to form a shelter belt from the gales; but, there's nothing to protect them, 'til they take hold. So, I would find myself taking any day that wasn't torrents and gales and plant 15 trees at a time. The tricky thing is that the bareroot trees can not have their roots exposed at all during planting--five minutes between the water bucket and the hole willkill the tree. These of course were the days that friends tended to "drop" by for a chat. One day I was juggling buckets, hoses, and bales of peat moss, while one of these intrepid talkers held forth. "Oh, you just keep on working away, you're not interferring with my story one bit..."

This is my first foray into sustainable living. My zeal for ordering seeds and trees in January was only surpassed by my fatigue and angst in May, trying to accomodate the glut I'd ordered. I mean, really,who can resist images of Eden in January!? My oldest and best friend, Heather, who has been living sustainably for over 35 years did warn me about this. I didn't say she can help herself, either--just that she warned me.

Anyway, the point is, I got these seeds. I didn't order them. Their unsolicited presence just became burdensome to me. I couldn't ignore them. I couldn't plant them and I couldn't give them away. Oh, and there weren't enough to sprinkle on top of a lovely home-made loaf of bread--or even a bagel for that matter.

There are no pictures of the plants that come from Seed Savers. They are too busy trying to preserve biodiversity in the age of Monsanto and Dupont to spend any money on marketing. So, I assumed they were probably bright red--like the ones in the Wizard of Oz. I'm not that keen on red flowers. To me, red is kind of gaudy in the garden. It's like Christmas displays in department stores in October. Also, I just wasnt' growing anything frivilous. The few inedible or unmedicinal flowers that I have in my garden were already there, or were the gifts from other gardening friends who dug 'em up and stuck 'em in--ready to wear-- unsolicited; but, welcome because they're already a work in progress and I didn't have to grow them or transplant them.

By the end of May, I'd worked my way down to three remaining seed packets and the poppies. I'd carefully laid out the beds, rimmed in stones to contain these packages and tossed the poppy seeds randomly between the beds just to be rid of them. I sowed them as "back up", should anything else fail to come up.

By mid-July, they were taking hold between the Hyssop and Calendula; but, I still figured they were planted too late to offer more than some pale foliage; but, last week, as the Nigella buds started to poke out of their feathery stalks, so, were the Poppy buds and I found myself getting excited about them. I was dying to pull apart a bud just to get a glimpse ofthe color they contained. But, that seemed harsh. What was I going to do if they were all red--behead them?

As the first bud started to unfurl, an unexpected sense of delight took hold of me. Here was this blending of colors, I'd neverbefore seen in a flower. In fact the only other place I'd seen such a combination was earlier this week after a thunder storm, when the last soft pink beams of sunset merged with the mist toppling over the purple heather on the summit of Ben Bulben. So, what am I to think, then, but, that this poppy takes it's pallette as it opens wherever it blooms like some magic chameleon or a species of butterfly in camoflage. Perhaps it's really named "Surely Poppy" for it will surely delight and humble any gardener foolish enough to spurn the gift of seed so lovingly harvested, saved, traded and sent from Irish Seed Savers--whose simple motto is "Stor Siolta" ("cherishing and preserving seeds").