Seed Catalogs and the Art of Dreaming
The seed catalogs started arriving in December. I didn’t order them — they just appear, like they can smell the desperation of a gardener trapped inside by winter. Baker Creek. Johnny’s Selected Seeds. Burpee, because I’m a basic suburban-adjacent gardener and I’m okay with that. I keep them in a stack by my reading chair, and on these cold January evenings, I flip through them like other people flip through Vogue. Except instead of fantasizing about designer clothes, I’m fantasizing about a garden that produces so many zucchini, I have to start leaving them on neighbors’ porches under cover of darkness. ...