Land, then, is not merely soil; it is a fountain of energy flowing through a circuit of soils, plants, and animals. ~Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac

Nature is the perfect example of a system wherein everything works in tandem to produce a desired result. No single living organism lives completely isolated or independently of another, because every one of them needs something that another one has to exist and survive. No process can be carried out without other factors that influence its outcome. We cannot have a rainy day without the moisture that clouds contribute, nor can birds or other wild creatures prosper without the sustenance that nature provides.

Of the billions of collaborations among and between all forms of life, some are, of course, more obvious than others. Snow melting once the sun hits it or rain saturating dry soil are among the more visible ones, while we are generally not privy to what goes on below the soil, in the various bodies of water, within the various communities of living things that go about their business virtually unseen, or high up in the atmosphere. From our own human needs that nature fills to interactions at the most basic molecular level, nothing does or can exist without the participation of another outside entity.

Of all those interactions and joint efforts, none is more rewarding than that which occurs between garden plants and the hands that make their existence possible. While flowers thrill onlookers and vegetable gardens make farmers’ markets a delight to frequent, only those holding the trowels or the watering cans are able to appreciate the special relationship that exists between themselves and the plants they lovingly tend. Indeed, none of those plants would exist had someone not taken the time to introduce their seeds or fledgling sprouts tenderly to the waiting soil.

It is this joint effort to which gardeners look forward to in the spring each year. And it occurred to me awhile back that, without my tearing open those little seed packets, there would be no joint effort, at least not here in the humble bit of earth I call my garden. Each time I tear the flap off a packet, a tiny window opens onto all sorts of possibilities. For while I can be sure that someone before me took the time to grow the host plants and harvest their seeds, I have no idea what went into those packets. Like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates, I never know what I’m gonna get!

The packet might say “Petite Marigolds,” but there is no guarantee that the seed of a much larger yellow “Crackerjack” marigold flower didn’t find its way into the mix. Which is why, every so often, I find a gift among what I expected to be a single variety. And in the end, it is my hand that tucks it lovingly and hopefully into the soil where, if both the seed and I are lucky, it will grow and beautify my world for a couple of months.

Of the seeds I harvest myself each year, most expand the field of possibilities exponentially. Hybrid plants are bred to produce a specific variety, which they do, for the most part. But seeds harvested from those plants might be the progeny of any number of different varieties. And therein lies the thrill of harvesting and nurturing them into existence. There is no way to predict what will come of them, and it is always an exciting surprise to see the many different types of zinnias emerge from a single sprinkling of seeds I gathered myself at the last summer’s end.

In the end, none of this would happen without my intervention, at least not here. While I’m grateful to former tenants for their contributions, there is no end to the rewards from making this little half-moon-shaped mound my own, personalizing it with the types of flowers I can grow easily here. In a space that measures roughly 6 by 10 feet, I’ve managed to perpetuate a small but charming legacy for others to see and enjoy. And thus the collaboration continues, as their memory of this otherwise insignificant little spot stays with them to hopefully give fruition to others.

A thought occurs to me as I write this, of how I am just one of the billions of other people around the world who contribute to the process. The world IS our garden, our minds and imaginations the fertile soil, and we think in plants and flowers. Just imagine how much more beautiful it would be if we were put in charge!