The very first lettuce seedling was poking its pale green head up last night.
Last night… as in a little over 24 hours after I put the seeds in the dirt. In gardening time, that’s practically instant gratification.
This morning, so many more were coming up, of all four varieties, and at dinner this evening, F. and I could not stop staring at them and commenting on the various stages of unfolding. Because we live in a relatively small space, the seeds will be sharing a corner of our kitchen table until further notice. A little unorthodox, perhaps, but I think we both like it so far. We were certainly fascinated tonight, if that’s anything to go by, and our dinner conversation was somewhat gardening-oriented, which always makes me a happy camper.
Cracoviensis, the Eastern European heirloom pictured, is the slowest of the four. I don’t know if you can see it in the photograph, but the underside of the seed leaves has a wide stripe of faded red, like a shadow laid over the green. Once the seedlings are fully opened, there’s no hint of that red. But if the seed catalog does not lie, there will be dark red at the heart of these lettuces.
It’s times like these that I wish I had a really fancy camera that could take macros of these tiny beings. As I expected, based on the size of the seed, these are some of the smallest seedlings I’ve ever grown — and the fastest.
Can you imagine that a head of lettuce comes from a being just now approaching the size of one of my sewing pins?