One Seed Remembrance

Nov 28, 2025

In any single seed lies the memory of millions, if not billions of plants’ lives. Countless plantcestors in an unbroken chain, going all the way back to the first plant ever to exist, are remembered by this singular seed.

Plants existed long before flowers and seeds came along. (This seed holds that memory too.)

When some plants decided to grow flowers to make seeds, over a hundred million years ago, they created substantially more diverse food and habitat, which supported a dramatic increases in diversity of insects, birds, mammals and other life forms.

More recently, humans came onto the scene and the wise, generous plants welcomed us too.

Our way, way back human ancestors learned, with plants’ help, that some seeds are good food. They learned that they can tend wild plants by planting and scattering seeds about, instead of trying to eat them all. And so gardening began.

A chestnut tree seed, imbued with memory.

Today we are lucky to have seeds to plant in our gardens. We are rich with gifts given forward through seeds from past plants and humans who grew together. Every seed that we plant in our gardens was tended by countless hands before us for millennia.

As these relationships continued, once-wild-plants offered humans tastier flavors, bigger vegetables, juicier fruits and seeds that were easier to harvest and process. In return, humans gave good conditions to the plants, made offerings of reciprocity, and promised to love and nurture their seed babies the following season.

Humans tended plants and plants tended humans.

When I look at this single seed, I am remembering the countless indigenous human lives across Earth, who tended wild plants with so much love and reverence, and the wild plants who chose to reciprocate in relationship and become domesticated.

Seeds are sacred.

If it were not for indigenous hands and hearts tending seeds season after season for millennia, we moderns would not have lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, peas, potatoes, wheat, rice, and all the other domesticated crops that we know and rely on today.

We owe our lives to indigenous seedkeepers.

Countless indigenous grandmothers, mothers and daughters tended seeds with love and reverence, every season for millennia. They passed the seeds forward, and forward and forward.

Today I am holding one seed in a brief moment after harvest and before planting again. A moment before eating a seed who gives me nutrients to continue living.

It humbles me to know this seed was born out of relationships spanning back to the first human who picked up this seed’s ancestor millennia ago.

How fortunate I am to have the chance to hold this seed today.

How many countless hands tended this seed’s ancestors with love and reverence? How many countless indigenous humans shared this seeds’ ancestors with responsibility and honor?

One seed is all it takes to draw upon this deep memory. One seed is all it takes to gather gratitude for the countless indigenous seedkeepers who came before, as well those who continue to steward seeds with their hands and hearts to this very day.

Thank you seeds.

Thank you plants.

Thank you indigenous seedkeepers, past, present and future.

Thank you Mother Earth.