Winter Sowing with The Cailleach

by Monica Shaner

Today the weather forecast is for a record-breaking high temperature. It is tempting to worry about the Cailleach’s health and well-being. She assures me that she is alright. It isn’t her that we should be worried about. By now, the seeds we collected last month have dried, hanging upside down in their paper bags. Moon by moon, the season is passing and there is more to be done before spring. Though I must admit that I enjoy the warm weather, I can feel the uncertainty of the oaks. It is not right, and it does not bode well. The Cailleach pokes me with her gnarled finger. Fix it.

Step 1: Winnow:

Once the seed heads are dry, the seeds must be removed and separated from the chaff—which for our purposes is any plant matter that is not the seeds. I start by breaking apart the seed heads, or cracking open the pods—depending on the kind of seed. 

1. For Joe Pye Weed, Goldenrod, and Milkweed, I must remove the fluffy tufts that catch the wind and transport their seeds far across open fields. These tufty ones go in a plastic food container along with a few coins. It takes several minutes of shaking, but eventually most of the seeds have lost their fluff. The fluff goes outside. The seeds go in an empty pill bottle, along with a cotton ball. The pill bottle goes into the refrigerator.
2. The pentstemon, false indigo, columbine and others that make hard pods get cracked open. They go on a tray with sides and I roll them with a rolling pin, or press them with a plate until they crack. With these, it is often easy to remove the hard pod pieces and sort the seeds by hand. I do what I can to get the big pieces off. Then, they go in a bowl. 
3. The coneflower, helianthus, black eyed susans etc. that have seeds buried deep in their disc florets need a different approach. I use the tray again, but this time I hold the flower by the stem end and tap the flower a few times. It often releases several seeds, which I put into a pill bottle. But most of the seeds require mashing the flower into the tray or picking it apart by hand. This takes time, but it is worth it to have as little chaff as possible in with the seeds. They go in a bowl. A different bowl for each species. 
4. Out on the deck, I have a box fan set on the table, along with an empty bowl. For each seed bowl, I spend some time pouring the seeds back and forth between the two bowls in front of the fan. It isn’t true that none of the seeds will blow away. Especially with tiny seeds, I have to be careful. Set the fan on low speed. Step a little away from the fan. But it works well enough. 
5. After the fan winnowing, each species of seed gets put in a pill bottle with a cotton ball and placed in the refrigerator.

Winnowed seeds can stay in the refrigerator for months, sometimes years. But wild plants aren’t like the bean seeds you sprouted in kindergarten, or the carrot seeds you spread in your garden.  Domesticated plants are adapted to be cared for by us, in spaces we create for them. 

Wild plants, native species, those that support biodiversity, are adapted to take care of themselves in their own spaces. Each one has its own history, has followed its own ancestors down the centuries, has its own friends and enemies. They are not pets, the Cailleach teaches. They are wild beings with winter traditions you know nothing about.  

Step 2: Prepare containers and plant seeds:

Winter sowing seems complicated, but it is a single method that works for a variety of plants. It is a good place to start. (Other methods will be discussed in future articles.)

1. Gather Containers. Some people use milk jugs, but any container that is clear on the top will work. Or any container that can be covered with clear plastic. Peanut butter jars with bubble wrap rubber banded over the top work. So do yogurt containers with clear lids. If you use the milk jugs, you will need to cut them in half and then tape them back together. YouTube has videos on this, but I find it unnecessarily complicated. Whatever you use, poke a couple of small holes in the bottom for drainage, and a couple of holes in the top for air circulation. You can make them with an awl or a nail. 
2. Fill your container with at least 3 inches of coconut coir or other seed starting medium, prepared according to their instructions. If your container has opaque walls, fill it 2/3 of the way, even if that is much more than 3 inches. You don’t want to shade out your seedling. 
3. Add your seeds. Note that wild seeds vary in their germination rates. Account for this by planting 2-3 seeds for every plant you want. Press the seeds against the coconut fiber. If the seeds are large, poke them in and pinch the fiber around them. Don’t shove them in too deep. In nature, the seeds fall on the ground and find their way without your help. They know what to do. 

The Cailleach reminds me that humans have a narrow understanding of life. We can’t help it. We are social mammals with long gestations, giving birth to only one or two fragile young at a time. Each one of us requires so much investment and encouragement. Each one of us is years in the making. This leads us to focus on the world of forms. She sees it differently. For her, a seed is energy whether it becomes a plant or is metabolized by a wren or is carried off by worker ants. It is energy efficiency that matters. Radiance is a currency in the natural world. It is passed from one trophic level to another, savored and sequestered through the slow dark season. A seed is both the result and the hope of photosynthesis.  The Cailleach focuses on the energy. Potential now. Kinetic in spring. If you want to help the earth, you must learn to do this, too. 

Step 3: Place seed containers outside

1. Make sure the starting medium is wet, but not waterlogged before you cover them whatever clear material you are using. 
2. Place them outside somewhere they won’t fall over and where you won’t forget them. Somewhere with a few hours of sunlight is best, but don’t sweat it. Anywhere outside. 

Seeds for starting are a sacrifice the bioverse makes to you.  Because you took those seeds, there will be fewer robins next summer. The chipmunk that lives under the deck will have three kits instead of five. And the blue jay and hawk will go hungry on warm summer nights. This is your power grab. Your magic. The Cailleach, watching the energy flow, is not squeamish about this.  She only warns you not to squander it. A gift requires a gift.  Steward those plants well to increase the energy at the base of the trophic pyramid. The bioverse is depending on you.