seed journeys demo flip

Story 1: Wind Clouds roll in on an autumn morning. Wind dances in from the west.

From the Atlantic coastline, over Galway and into the Hidden Heartlands, Wind bellows, bends and blows. She brings with her the crisp twinkle of Samhain as she whispers through the bursting-ripe blackberries.

Wind swirls over Lough Ree. As she does, she scoops up streams of seeds as she sweeps through Portlick Woods.

Bouquets of Dandelion pappusses (pappus) are full of wishes. They dropped their lion-yellow blooms of summer and now show their dry, fluffy white plumes. The Dandelion seeds catch a short lift with Wind, parachuting a few meters away, when they return down to stick to a soft mound of mud in the road verge.

Old Silver Birch’s seeds, butterfly-shaped, dainty, and scraped free by birds from their catkin kebabs, emerge by the thousands like a golden mist onto Wind’s back, ready to fly.

Sycamore samaras join Wind’s parade with a twirl. They spin into the mix with papery-winged pirouettes.

Wind carries her travel companions as far as they seek to go. She deposits and gathers new guests as she wanders. She hovers in rest and admiration around the Hill of Uisneach, and the seeds of Autumn pause with her in momentary sweet stillness.

Engorged Gorse seeds, dried from August’s heat on the Hill’s edge, expand to near-rupturing. Their fuzzy pods explode with a POP POP POP, as the light auburn seeds summersault, scatter and sink themselves into the welcoming soil below. They will wait there for springtime’s warmth.

With renewed gusto from Gorse’s symphony, Wind and her fellow seed travellers dodge through knoll and hedgerow. Together, they crescendo over Loughcrew Cairns, and with a gentle hush from the east, they dip into touchdown on Mullaghmeen’s Beech woodland soil.

Some seeds find shelter here - they are urged to stay given the promise of rich soil, speckled rains through the canopy, and spring sunlight to come.

Wind lifts and swoons onwards, bringing any seeds still on their way, not ready to land just yet.

Fact box: Seed Dispersal by wind is called anemochory. Ballochory is when plants spread their seeds through their own force.

Reflection Questions: What factors play into how far seeds can travel on the wind?

Which seed shapes and features help seeds move on the wind? Predict - what will happen when the seeds land on the ground… What will they need in order to grow?

Story 5: Humans and seeds Erin moves swiftly outside, past the hedgerow spilling over with daffodil yellows and coconut scent of gorse flower. She slips by swatches of leaves in various shades of green, and the first bluebells bobbing in half rainbow arcs. Sheets of rain bucket down from engorged grey clouds above.

Panting from her puddled passage, trousers splashed wet above her wellies, Erin arrives at last to the polytunnel. She checks expectantly on the drying mangetout peas she’d fastened with twine to the polytunnel frame about a week before. It was as she’d hoped - the seeds were ready to store.

The pea seeds were planted a few months ago, pastel green and wrinkled as a finger pad after too much time in the sea. They had grown up into thriving plants over the past few months under Erin’s care. They developed round-ish leaves and floppy stems with curly tendrils that climbed the mesh. Scrambling higher and higher up the netting, the pea plants swung to and fro in the wind as it swept through the polytunnel.

Erin worried that the pea plants would certainly let go of their hold in all this wind - they appeared so fragile and precarious! But they surprised her repeatedly, their tendril arms always keeping a firm grip. With time, the plants grew as tall as she. Finally their white and purple flowers emerged, their faces full of personality, and their halfsmile shaped, pinky-length pods filled with beady peas. They formed clusters of five or six peas in each pod.

Erin delighted in the sweet, crunchy snack of peas, sharing with family and friends the bounty of her harvest. The more she picked, the more grew back, as she realised that removing the fully grown peas from the plant granted it more energy to produce even more. A gift that keeps giving, she marvelled.

Following this magical month of pea snacks abundance, we now greet Erin here in her polytunnel bliss. Having enjoyed the handfuls of flavour from mangetout galore, she’s saving the seeds to plant next year. Rather than plucking this last batch when they were just-ready, Erin waited for the latest group of peas to become full and plump, nearly bursting their shells. Gently pulling the viney plants from the soil and draping them across the metal frame of the polytunnel, Erin designed the peas in a festive drying formation like decorating a party room with streamers. The peas turned from green to brown, almost cracking from sunning in the polytunnel’s dry environment.

The peas are ready to be satisfyingly popped from their capsules, to be shaken into little brown bags, lovingly labelled and stored in a cool dry place until planting time rolls around again.

Brown seed envelopes etched with pen and folded into her deep raincoat pockets, Erin can’t wait to tell her family about the special present she grew and packaged just for them. From seed to seed.

Reflection Questions: Would the seeds have dried and re-planted themselves without Erin’s help?

What does it mean to go 'from seed to seed'?

What can we learn from Erin that can help us connect to nature in our own lives?