Traces of trades and seed dissemination.
This page will first be updated with traces of seeds dispersed across 2024. If you’d like to contribute your reflection please see this page. (Traces of trades and exchanges from previous years will be updated here shortly; for now, you can look back on project engagement on instagram).
The prompt (new for 2024):
In exchange for these seeds you are asked to send a response in return: a story, image or reflection (etc), of the seeds after you have planted them. Please contribute your reflection on this page.
Traces of 2024:
April Dean – amiskwaciwâskahikan/Treaty Six Territory
Mystery Tomatoes!, Italian Heirloom Tomatoes, Yellow Cherry Tomatoes, Black Krim Tomatoes, Purple fountain grass, Sweet grass, Japanese silver grass, Black Hungarian Peppers, Borage, Poppies (summer 2024)
Its currently mid-October, and as I’m cleaning up the garden pots and beds for storage or for hibernation, making piles of leaves and vines for compost or insulation, it’s difficult to think back to last February and the hopefulness of planning out the new year’s garden while looking out at a blanket of frozen snow. I’m not sure what came over me last spring but I went a bit over the top on tomatoes. I started 7 different varieties indoors in early March (a little TOO early!). They germinated in an unheard of FOUR DAYS! I was thinking ahead to another hot dry summer with smoke filled skies and thought tomatoes and peppers would thrive in the heat. After thinning and potting up I had TOO MANY plants and gave so many healthy seedlings away to good gardens. May and June did not deliver the heat of the previous year and it was extremely windy and close to zero degrees overnight well into June. Not favourable tomato weather! After weeks of moving large seedlings in and out of the house each night, I gave up and planted out in late May. I still had a great tomato harvest despite the challenging weather. The Black Krim were very beautiful and dense. The Italian Heirloom grew in wild shapes. The mystery tomatoes turned out to be some kind of roma variety and the hungrian peppers had a wonderful smoky flavour enjoyed in salsas and tacos all summer long. While it wasn’t quite the weather expected the cooler temps and more moisture than the previous year were a huge relief.
Chelsea Boos – NE Edmonton/Treaty 6 Territory, lands of métis, nehiyaw, niitsitapi, nakota sioux, saulteaux, dene, tsuut’ina, and inuit since time immemorial.
Anise Hyssop, Mouse Melon, Nasturtium, Heirloom Green Beans, Blue Hubbard Squash, Prairie grasses, and Zinnia (summer 2024)
Seeding the nasturtium, green beans, Blue Hubbard and Cucamelons last Winter, I jealously watched the warm, moist soil take in the little dry shells and transform them into new life. I felt like that seed, hungry for green again. The seeds are asleep for a few days (legumes), maybe a few weeks (squash), before they become sprouts, full of youthful energy, able to push themselves up out of the decaying medium they find root. I found inspiration to keep on keeping on, as I watched them grow, undeterred by lack of light and water when the timer failed or I stayed away too long. Despite neglect, the captives would outgrow their plastic prisons and be placed in the fresh earth after the fateful sign of spring in so-called alberta, the blessed May long weekend .
Green beans, nasturtium, and squash plants would withstand June hailstorms, scorching July heat, and months of drought, to produce a couple of funny little fruits that may or may not make viable seed, true to type. I take solace when i hear it said in my seed mentorship farm club that, a bad seed growing year is a good seed selection year. We are growing the heirlooms of tomorrow. Late Spring planting of Zinnia, anise hyssop and prairie grasses saw these tough plants growing strong, forming buds, flowers, and then seed heads into October. Resilient as they are, they will not withstand being uprooted by passing animals in the front yard. I recount failures and triumphs altogether as data, contributing to another year of experience and learning. I will dry, store, and resow the precious seeds for next year. merry part until we merry meet again.
Livvy Arau McSweeney – Edmonton/Treaty 6
Chamomile and Calendula (summer 2024)
I remember taking my seed packets home after the show and unwrapping them from the beautiful floral wrapping. I imagined sowing them and placing the pots on my small back porch. But when the time came, I chose not to have a garden. I traveled so much in the summer, and I did not know if my subletter would want to take on the labor of caring for my plants so the seeds remain in their packets.
Although I did not have a garden of my own this season, I visited many gardens while traveling. Both big display and botanical ones and smaller private ones. I looked out for Chamomile and Calendula, as these were the seeds I grabbed from the exhibit and ones I’ve always had in my own garden. My former roommate Emma, a herbalist, used to dry these two flowers, along with many, many other plants, so we could make teas and extracts or simply decorate our home with the beautiful dried flowers. When we lived together –a few years ago now–we made a garden in the backyard even though our landlord forbade it. He wasn’t a very nice man, and he lived across the country, so we figured he’d never know. The garden was beautiful.
I’ve kept my seed packets next to the dried flowers in my apartment. I am hopeful that next season will be the time to sow them.
Lara – Edson, Alberta/Treaty 6 territory
Fireweed, Sweetgrass, Wild Carrot, Lavender and Poppy seeds (summer 2024)
Of all the seeds I planted, the poppy seeds love our garden best. I mixed the seeds with the poppies we already have growing in our backyard garden, knowing they would also most likely thrive in a spot with friends. The Sweetgrass, Fireweed and lavender seeds didn’t sprout, but I think the birds who live in the trees in our front yard may have enjoyed them before they had a chance. The wild carrots grew well – we grew them in pots on our deck, and currently, they seem to be getting ready to go to seed:)
Caitlin – Edmonton/Treaty 6
Sugar Pie Pumpkin, Hyssop (bush like), Columbine flower (summer 2024)
I planted the seeds I received in early July. The pumpkin vine is fast growing in a vegetable/herb patch in my front yard located in the downtown area where frost is still delayed. The seeds were sown in several areas; the plant that emerged did so in the sunniest spot in rich well-draining soil. It is in flower and its tendrils wrap around large bushy cosmos and marigold plants finding its way toward tickle grass and Joe-Pye Weed. If the warm weather continues it will soon find its way toward milkweed and Saskatoons. It’s a beautiful plant with its interesting leaf shape and big orange flowers. My six-year-old has always wanted us to grow pumpkins. I am not sure we will get pumpkins to harvest but it is a fun experiment. This is our second year living in this house where we replaced the front lawn with many varieties of native plants, herbs, fruit and vegetables, and plants specifically grown for dye and textiles. I received criticism from one person about growing vegetables in the front yard, which they think looks “ridiculous” because “only ornamental flowers should grow out front.” It prompted me to look into the history of lawns and front vegetable gardens and see this endeavor as a form of resistance to imposed uniformity and aesthetics through something that is joyful and nurturing. I can see how front yard gardens (especially vegetable gardens) encourage community because being out there working is how I’ve met many interesting neighbours with opportunities for sharing.
Another visitor this summer wondered why my squash plant had not yet produced any fruit which makes me reflect on how plants are often valued based on their performance and productivity. The pumpkin vine looks wonderful growing horizontally in contrast to wild blue flax in the foreground and provides afternoon shade to the kale and other plants that grow amongst it. I still have seeds to plant earlier in the season next year including in large containers. I’m curious about growing the vines vertically and cooking the leaves and flowers which are also edible. I make paper from plants and will leave the vines over winter to decompose and harvest for fibre in late spring. Lots of ladybugs and other critters keeping warm in the plant right now.
There is a long, shady corridor-shaped garden bed in the front yard which runs along my neighbour’s border. Not many plants grow there yet except for the Sweet Cicely finally getting established and a Forget-me-Not (already present when we moved in). This is where I sowed the columbine seeds. I tend to be very precious with seeds and only sow a few at the time in containers because I often accidentally weed out intentionally planted seedlings in addition to being eaten by birds, cutworms and slugs. This time, I emptied the packet of columbine seeds in two large patches and am happy to see the very distinctive leaves of columbines on the seedlings which have survived the summer’s heatwaves. Today I covered them in leaves so they can overwinter.
I was curious about the “hyssop (bush type)” seeds and sowed them in small containers to plant out. It was an exciting mystery to me because I have been interested in trying to grow Hyssopus Officinalis and love growing Agastache Foeiculum. Seedlings quickly appeared, which I hardened off outside and planted out. The leaves look very much like that of an Agastache and smell very licoricey. They are growing in the ground in a south facing corridor in my backyard that used to be a storage area for abandoned yard furniture. I had composted the dug up lawn in this nook which made for a nice soil, installed stepping stones and am excited to see these plants self-seed. I plan to share the remaining seeds with my mom who is starting a new garden.
anonymous – Edmonton/Treaty 6
Sunflowers (summer 2024)
Last year, I grew sunflowers for the first time in my garden beds and there were some green beans (from a previous year’s seeds are meant to disperse seed pack) that had happily self-seeded in the same box. Throughout the year, I watched the beans climb up the sunflower stocks and both plants produced beautifully. So I thought I would try to recreate this relationship purposefully this year with the sunflower seeds that I received from this project. However, as the garden teaches us more every year, I learned that too many beans have the tendency to take over other crops and thus upset the careful relationship that had self-seeded the year before. As the beans got a bit of a head start compared to the sunflowers, they wrapped their strong tendrils around the sunflower stocks and pulled them sideways. No matter the amount of staking I tried, the beans were determined to make some funky sunflowers. Rather than cutting out the beans to save the sunflowers, I’ve let them go and now we are enjoying delicious beans every week, and although the sunflowers are a bit behind on blooming, their heads promise full flowers soon.
Hannah – Edmonton/Treaty 6
Focus on Joy bouquet #1: Anise Hyssop, Wild flower mix, Oat Grass; Zinnia (Summer 2024)
As I planted the seeds, I wished them well. I wanted the earth to welcome them back, to reclaim them and nurture them. I was intentional in where I placed them and diligently watered the area and removed competing plants to ensure they had the best chance of flourishing. As I eagerly awaited their arrival, I was surprised at how much the surrounding insects and critters liked the baby plants. This is the first year we have had so many hungry little souls in our garden. Luckily a few survived and I have now had the pleasure of admiring two baby zinnia plants, two bundles of oat grass, and a cluster of anise hyssop.
The oat grass is doing best of all, and I’ve been very proud of it’s growth. The conditions of the soil it was placed in could have been improved. Yet it pushes upwards and sways happily in the breeze. It’s home is near two dogwood bushes, native to the land it is situated on. On the breeze comes the sweet smell of catnip, planted nearby. One bundle of grass was eaten by an animal or insect, I’m not sure which, but it has disappeared entirely. The other two continue to grow daily.
The zinnia has grown to about 20 cm tall despite several animal and human challenges. It was placed in an area where we would easily be able to see the flowers when they came, however that also meant the area was easily accessible to tiny toes eager to help tend to the garden. Two of the seeds didn’t germinate, but we are hopeful the remaining two might flower before the cold settles in.
Surprisingly, none of the wildflowers germinated, but we are happy to see the bees have been busily buzzing around our previously established wildflower patch.
Lastly, the anise hyssop has come up spectacularly, despite not yet flowering. The leaves are full and abundant, nestled beside sweet basil and spinach.
This experience has instilled in me a great sense of connection with the land we live on, inspiration to reflect, and inspiration to share the seeds we grow and sow. Thank you.
Lindsay – Edmonton/Treaty 6
Poppies and Black-Eyed Susans (summer 2024)
I scattered the seeds in my newer flower bed that had room for more plants. In a few weeks, there were poppy sprouts all bunched together downslope from where I tossed them. They are a think mass of vegetation, and just starting to flower. The Black-eyed Susans either didn’t like their new home or are waiting dormant for the next growing season. Or maybe became food for birds.
Qi Zhang – Edmonton/Treaty 6
Lettuce seeds (summer 2024).
I planted the seeds, and they successfully germinated, however, they gradually died. I’m feel terrible about it….I’m really bad at this……
LDeV – Berkeley, CA – Ohlone Territory
Tomato seeds (summer 2024).
I received a number of packets and planted them in starter containers, but very few came up. The only ones that really were viable were labelled “mystery tomato seed” and they seem to be doing very well.
I made little labels when I first planted them but they were soon washed out or lost. Consequently, as volunteer tomatoes show up all over my yard in the summer, I am now not sure which ones were actually from the ‘mystery tomato’ seed packets, and which are simply a result of that other mysterious thing in nature where seeds appear from humans, squirrels and birds and take root.
I live in a climate where many plants re-seed themselves but some appear in areas of the garden where I have to assume the seed could only have been carried by birds or squirrels. This is especially true with tomatoes, a plant native to the Americas.
Every summer I find some of these plants nestled near the steps of my studio, a tiny spot where I never either water or plant. For the first time this year, I found a spare little tomato plant right under my garden hose, another in a cactus garden and most recently one is peeking out from beneath some squash leaves struggling for sun. I tend to favor these plants because they come as gifts. They also remind me that while California is a very dry climate, tomato’s ability to so easily propagate is a testament to how little water they actually need.