Seed time

Everywhere, nature is shedding.
Flax plants stand up proudly along the coast. Their pods are cracking open, and raining black seeds on to the ground beneath.
I gather them, and make a basket shape from the leaves, wanting to contain and hold what is flying away.

The earth, which I've always thought of as stable and benevolent, has shaken violently: first in Christchurch and now Japan. The destruction from the recent earthquake and tsunami is overwhelming. I want to believe in the life force of seeds, to believe that all is well in nature, that the cycle of death-growth-birth will continue. I think of new flax plants sprouting up from these shiny black seeds, with  flame-like red and yellow flowers licking the sky once more, and the leaves offering themselves to be woven into baskets to hold fruits, vegetables, and hope.