The Saturday Journal: The Sound of Seeds Falling

8 hours ago

4 min read

I was sitting at my kitchen table--the house was quiet--I was writing my morning thoughts--a prayer. And there in the silence I heard this noise--as if something fell. At first I brushed it off--it sounded like one of those pesty stinkbugs loosing its grip--his legs kicking frantically in the air trying to get off his back--on his feet again. You know the sound of one of those darn stinkbugs in your home.

Did you know there's supposed to be some kind of spiritual meaning to a stink bug landing on you? I read it means "something crucial is about to happen", "to be ready for conflict". Well the way I see it--it's not a warning for me--but to the stinkbug. Have you ever??? And let me be clear on one thing, I didn't go looking for this information on the stinkbug--on purpose.

Back to my story--I looked around for a stinkbug and nothing. I went back to the table and I heard the noise again--this time a little louder. I followed the noise closer and the sound led me to my kitchen countertop--where I had placed a jar filled with basil, one dahlia, and celosia--gifts from a garden no longer tended by its' gardener. The soft pink celosia blooms were turning a darker shade of black and the seeds were falling onto the paper plate I had placed under the vase.

The noise--was the sound of seeds falling.

I touched the bloom of the celosia--gently raked my fingers through the flower and the tiny black seeds came like a heavy snowfall. Seeing these seeds falling took me back to a memory of my grandmother She grew lots of Sweet Williams. Us grandkids weren't allowed to pick any of her flowers until seed time and the Sweet Williams--they were like this magic flower to my six-year old self. She taught me to take the bloom softly into my little hand and turn the flower upside down--cupping my other hand to catch the seeds. The seeds--no bigger than a mustard seed--and with a gentle tap the seeds would fall into my sweaty palm and this--this was the most magical thing I had ever seen.

And now to stand here in the very kitchen where my Grandmother cooked and cleaned and spent decades living--to not only see flower seeds fall--but to hear them too?!

I believe we can all agree the season of fall brings beauty like no other time of the year. Vibrant colors of oranges, yellows, browns, reds, purples--the color white even seems brighter. People travel for miles to the mountains to soak in this beauty--people flock to the farmer's markets--roadside stands--buying fall mums--family outings to pumpkin fields--searching for the "perfect" pumpkin to carve--or adorn our front porches--bake pumpkin pies.

During the months of May through July, a pumpkin farmer drops the seeds quietly in the rich soil--whether with a planter or by hand--in hopes of his or her crops will produce rows of the largest of orange pumpkins, and even the smallest greens and whites and yellows on the vine.

And I wonder, does the pumpkin farmer ever go to the farmer's markets or to his or her own roadside stand--out to the field where families and individuals are pulling wagons--laughing and perhaps arguing on which pumpkins to fill their wagon with? Do they watch--do they listen--hear the sounds of their seeds planted many months ago-witness the fruit of their labors?

I hope so.

And on this night I'm sitting on the edge of my youngest grandson's bed, my son and his two children--my grandbabies are on the other side--they are snuggled close and I'm listening to my son read them a story about a Halloween cat and his voice as he reads--it's scary--but not too scary. My grandbabies--they listen--they laugh--they ask for him to read another book and I think back and it hasn't been that many years ago--it seems, that I was the voice of the cat--the dog--the rabbit and the Berenstain Bears--reading book after book to my son and daughter.

And the sounds of seeds, they fall--like rain all around us.

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 David Thoreau

"I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase.

So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth;

but God that giveth the increase."

I Corinthians 3:6-7 (KJV)

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