Seeds: The Pulse of Life
“Flowers are good for the soul. And the seeds they fashion are life, sustenance, the future. We are utterly dependent on them. Seeds are the bright bridge between us and the sun, emissaries of the solar system, bundles of cosmic energy.” (The Seed Underground by Janisse Ray).
If you have been following the story of the OVLC Nursery and Rewild Ojai, no doubt you have heard the phrases “seed collecting season” or “watershed local genetics”. If you have read plant newsletters, there is not a mention of a plant without referencing the seed bank, or the implications of future seeded generations. And if you are my friend, I am sure you have heard me trail off while unlacing a boot, thinking about a species of native plant I have dived into that particular week, drifting off into the world of ancient phenologies.
When first diving into my environmental learning, I tried to navigate the many branches of philosophies interpreting the natural world. As a young scientist looking for something real after years of listening to arguments built upon eco-guilt or apocalyptic narratives, the simple act of planting native plants gave me relief. Climate anxiety turned to native plant obsessions, and I now find myself an integral part of a community of hungry-for-answers humans and hungry-for-habitat flora and fauna.
Working with one foot in the field and one foot in the nursery, seeds became my own bridge of understanding. To me, it was the perfect way to cram all the knowledge into one tiny unit—wrapped in a perfectly sound seed coat. In order to understand a seed, one must know the seasonal cycles of a plant. When does it flower? How long will it flower? How large is the seed? What insects or animals glean this seed alongside me? Looking through a larger lens: Where does this plant take root? What communities does it live within? How does the plant travel? All of these answers bring me back to a handful of seeds.
This summer, just as in summers past, the OVLC restoration and nursery crews have been seeking senescence. The creeks are being walked, shale hills scaled, and brush explored for annuals and perennials alike. Meticulously noting each population, we observe the communities of our target species. Every week transforms as no month is the same, no year a twin of the last. The bursts of color, and sudden drops in seed. Blink, and you’ll miss it. The next year another contrasting boom, then a bust. The past few rainy years, the systems have flushed anew, and I cannot quite put my finger on why this is.
But we are stewards of seed, and with the ever-changing natural conditions, all we can do is ask questions and humbly relinquish the green blur.
Sophie McLean, Native Plant Specialist & Nursery Manager