Dormant Seeding

Frost crystallizes on the tips of the windblown grass in my backyard. The temperature has dropped below freezing and has stayed frigid for weeks now. We’ve had a slew of unseasonably warm winters, and experiencing December cold almost feels novel. I’ve added flannels and coats to my daily routine. Although this is how winter should feel, I honestly can’t remember the last time I spent the holidays wearing more than a t-shirt.

We threw down grass seed sometime in late September, before the temperatures dipped below ideal. I was going to do one more round of overseeding, and I waited too long. I didn’t expect winter to come to North Carolina. It’s been so long since we had one that I didn’t anticipate the season shifting colder. So, here we are in the frosty grip.

While reading forums on the proper way to grow grass, I learned about a technique called “dormant seeding.” Some folks say it’s a waste to spread seed after the season gets too cold, but there is a camp that disagrees. The concept of dormant seeding allows seeds to be cast on cold soil. Over winter, the rain and snow push the seeds deeper into the dirt. So, by spring, the seeds will germinate and be a little better started. This method gives you a head start on spring seeding, and it requires less watering due to factors like melting snow. You let the hardship of winter work to your advantage.

Success in life’s pursuits sometimes feels like dormant seeding. Think about it. How many times did you do the right things at the right times, but you didn’t get the results you hoped for? Then, seemingly after a season of bareness, those deep seeds sown out of season start to sprout. Nothing happens in an instant. The seeds have been cast. Sometimes they take longer to spring to life than we anticipated. Had we not thrown the seeds in the “bad” times, we wouldn’t see the results. Occasionally, you’ve got to go against conventional wisdom to get the results you want.

The inverse of this method is that it’s risky. Your seeds are open to the elements, and there’s a good chance they’ll get waterlogged and rot. Hungry birds will take advantage of the exposed seeds. Some of them will wash away. The same can be true with our personal efforts. Sometimes the risk does end up in failure. That’s the game. The goal is to throw out enough seeds to mitigate the costs of failure.

Maybe that’s why I’m having a season right now. I’ve been casting creative seeds for a quarter-century with varied results. Most of my potential has been seen, noted, and historically, it has mostly stayed in the darkness of deep soil. But things are starting to emerge. The risks are beginning to pay off. Sure, some of my passions have died, or at least appear dead, but that hasn’t stopped me from making the attempts. The discipline of sprinkling ideas on barren landscapes has begun to germinate. Sometimes it all boils down to timing. The nexus of effort and exposure coalesces into growth.

At the end of the day, you’ll never know which seeds sprout and which ones die. The surefire way to stifle growth is to stop the work. Remember, you reap what you sow. It requires effort. So, both with grass and creative ventures, I’ll keep spreading seed. Here’s hoping for lush buds and a fruitful spring.

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If you’re anywhere near Kernersville, NC, on Saturday, come say hello. I’ll be doing a book signing and poetry reading at Whoa!Tone Records at 6 pm.