By Timothy P McLaughlin 

Here, in the wild, where there’s almost no chance
of another human stopping through,
where there’s no hopping round
patterns of perception or acceptance, 

By Rachel Corby

There is something that has been happening to me throughout my adult life. That something is an increasing feeling of aliveness and wonder. Although it existed strongly within me for every moment of my childhood it had begun to weaken in my teenage years, leaving me bereft, alienated, lonely, confused and depressed.

By Kate Gilday

I pause before stepping into the forest, halting to listen, to take in the beauty before me, and breathe in the fragrance of the evergreens welcoming us with outstretched branches.  In these few moments, before entering this wild place I ask permission to step onto and off the path ahead, to wander among the trees and through the streams we will encounter.

By Timothy P. McLaughlin

In the effort to become more like water,

I’ve taken to walking the dried arroyos of New Mexico.

Gliding along their twisting, sandy trails,

following the water’s worn tracks round trees and brush

and endless rock,

We offer gratitude to the Wild. For the rare and sacred places on earth where true wilderness reigns. Forthose edge places on the borders of our gardens and our consciousness where the wild interlaces with the tame, awakening us with inspiration. For the indomitable Wild that creeps or flies or pushes up through the pavement even into our cities, reminding us of Lif

By April Thanhauser

Come home!

Where are you hiding?

Behind the ferns?

On some stony peak I didn’t climb?

Are you in the fish’s mouth, the night glint in my cat’s eye?

In all their shapes, sizes, colors, the seeds have granted us sustenance, flavors, art, craft, and most importantly story and song. The life-giving mystery in a handful of seeds has inspired the many stories and songs that create the sacred dance between people and plants. These seeds share insight on the alchemy of transformation of sunlight to food, one kernel into many. 

For hundreds and hundreds of year the Abenaki People lived on both sides of the Connecticut River in what are now called Vermont and New Hampshire in the United States around the villages called Haverhill and Newbury. By the time European settlers arrived in these areas, the Abenakis had been growing sweet corn on the oxbows of the river for centuries.  It was very different from the sweet corn of today. Abenaki corn grew only about three feet high and produced one ear per stock, that ear being about four inches long and containing 8 to 12 rows of kernels.

One long-ago September at age nine, I created a science project for school---a large and neatly labeled seed chart composed on poster board with scotch tape.  How thrilling it was to discover each beautiful and highly varied specimen, as Earth bejeweled her autumn cloak with seeds of hope for the year to come!

Recognizing the growing global threat to the diversity, integrity and sanctity of seeds, we would like to honor a few of the organizations which have taken significant steps to  protect seeds and to preserve our rights to save seeds.