In the winter, you can see the bones of the earth. The shape of the trees and shrubs, the long furrows where last year’s crops grew. The hardy green shoots of garlic and perennial herbs that lay sleeping, beneath straw and sometimes snow, through the cold months.

I miss the garden when it’s put to bed. It’s never gone, the sense of it is always there, waiting for the first warmth of spring. Still, the work is slower – and colder – through December and January.

Slowing Down, Planning Ahead

There’s pruning to be done. I like pruning, because it lets you consider each one of your trees and shrubs. I like the slow, methodical measuring of it, checking for shape, deadwood, and crossing branches. It forces you to slow down and consider the structure of these plants, which in the summer you never see, hidden as they are by green leaves.

In a vegetable garden winter also means planning for the season ahead. I like to do this as soon as I finish the previous year’s growing season, because that way the things I want to change or keep the same are clear in my head. But the dreaming part is the fun of it. Getting lost in seed catalogues and imaging the season to come.

It’s almost enough to make the winter pass quickly. The brief break between one growing season and the next spent reflecting on the trees and shrubs that frame the backbone of the garden and dreaming of what will come. Almost. But not quite. Because in January the slant of sun starts to change. A subtle tilt toward spring. And I always want to start seeds.

An Act of Hope

To me seeds are a magical thing. A tiny vessel meant to carry a plant from one season to the next. Or beyond, until conditions are right for it to grow. And I definitely spend a lot of my time in the winter trying to make the conditions right for them to grow.

I think loving seeds and wanting to see them sprout is an ancient thing. A deep part of being human. They’ve sustained us for so long that planting them always feels like an act of hope to me. So, I like to start the first of the seeds in the early days of January, if only to remind myself that spring will come.

Winter seed starting can look like a few different things. Mostly here in Lucille’s it looks like indoor seed starting, and true winter seed sowing.

Indoor seed starting is typically used for early spring crops, and crops that take a long time to come to maturity.

Long season crops, like peppers and eggplant (which I’ll start this year on February 6) and tomatoes (which I’ll start on March 6) benefit from getting a jump on the growing season. Starting these seeds early lets me plant out an established plant in mid-May that will yield a harvest in July, August and September.

Crops like kale (which I’ll start February 6), lettuce and broccoli (February 28) are considered early spring crops because they like cooler weather. I’ll start these in February indoors so that I can plant out an established seedling when the conditions are right in March and April and have an earlier harvest.

To sow most seeds, I use a simple technique of digging a hole with my fingertip, dropping the seed in place, and then “tucking it in” by pinching the dirt to cover it up.

Cold Exposure

The other technique we use down here in Lucille’s is called winter seed sowing. Winter seed sowing requires almost no work on the part of the gardener, once you’ve got the seeds in the soil. It relies for the seeds themselves to know the right moment to germinate, or sprout.

For true winter seed sowing you fill a tray (or a milk jug) with potting soil and seed into it, watering the tray as normal. Then, instead of placing the seeds in a warm, sunny spot you put them outside in the winter cold. I like to give them some shelter, either inside a cold frame or under a cover. But the idea behind winter seed sowing is that the seeds are exposed to all the normal conditions of winter – rain, snow, sleet and sun. They will freeze and thaw with the soil and emerge in the spring when the soil temperature reaches the right threshold.

This technique can be especially useful for seeds that require cold stratification – or a period of exposure to cold temperatures – in order to germinate. This year I winter sowed oysterleaf (Mertensia maritima) in the cold frame on January 8. Since then I’ve covered the tray with snow when we have it, and opened the cold frame to the rain. Other than that, I’ve left them alone so that they can germinate when the soil hits the right temperature. Right now they are frozen solid! But I trust that when they thaw they’ll be ready to grow. I’ve found that winter seed sowing yields a hardier seedling that’s ready to go into the garden quicker.

At the very end of this month, I’ll start some onions. Blush onion, a bulbing onion which can take up to four months to yield a harvest. And a green onion ‘Parade Bunching,’ which has been a tried and true garden staple here in Lucille’s. The blush onion I’ll start indoors since it takes so long to yield a harvest. The green onion I’m going to try winter sowing in the cold frame!

Stop by for a visit next time you’re at Tyler. I’m always happy to show off the seedlings for the coming season, and to talk garden plans. It might feel cold out there, but each tiny green shoot is a reminder that spring is right around the corner.

I placed our Oyster Leaf seed tray in a cold frame outside of the Edible Classroom Building, and the very next day, they were covered with snow. Winter seed sowing in action!