But now faith, hope, love, abide these three;

but the greatest of these is love.

... said Paul in his letter to the Corinth church. But were he writing to farmers, perhaps he'd have different priorities. Farm life revolves around Faith-Hope. I need this combinatorial virtue to believe that in my snow-shrouded bee hives, there's a warm cluster of workers dining on last summer's nectar and pollen, ready to emerge with the warmth of spring-that next spring, summer, and even fall will provide, as Keats wrote:

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Faith-Hope tells me that I'll see the precisely critical combination of freezing nights and mild days heralding the approach of spring that will start the maples' life-blood flowing, that will let me tap their precious sap, though they still now brood in winter's icy clutch.

And our garden ... only Faith-Hope supplies the courage to begin starting seedlings in the greenhouse while two feet of snow and ice still cover the soil; while the specters of late blight and Mexican Bean Beetles and slugs and voles hover in the coming summer. Nonetheless, this virtue promises a harvest not only for our needs through the coming year, but a surplus to share with our local food pantry.

At the bottom line, I love it all. Maybe Paul was right.

By Brian Cox and Jeff Forshaw, Da Capo Press (2009)

The public library is an incredible blessing! And so is old age! I have work to do, but I also have time to read, and with a branch library within walking distance, life can be very satisfying, not to say exciting. All of which brings me to the book I'm reading now--the second time round, having finished the first reading a few days ago.

Scientists today seem to be more aware of the hunger for understandable writing in their field than ever before. I remember trying to read astronomy books when I was about nine or ten and having a really rough time of it. Even as I grew older and expanded my vocabulary and understanding, such works remained difficult and unrewarding. Today there are some scientists in almost every field who can convey the sense of their area of expertise in clear and concise prose. If books like these had been available in the 30s and 40s, I'd have been a scientist (astronomer, physicist, biologist ???) rather than an historian, I'm fairly sure. On the other hand, I can now enjoy all the sciences, though I must admit that those dealing with fundamental physics, biology or neurology are especially welcome.

So there now is "Why Does E=mc²?", a very well written and exciting book--not a quick read, I warn you, but well worth the time.

That equation may be the best known equation in the world today, recognized by people who haven't the faintest idea of its meaning. It looks fairly simple and in fact is rather simple, but it upended a lot of thinking in the early 20th century and is credited with being a turning point in the field of physics. Professors Cox and Forshaw want to explain the meaning of the equation--Einstein's theory of space and time--so that you and I can not only understand it but might also experience some of the wonder and excitement that accompanies a breakthrough in awareness and understanding.

I've had such 'revelations' several times in my life--once at the age of six or seven when it dawned on me that the Universe--Earth, sun, other planets, stars, infinite space--might be what was meant in Sunday School when they said that God created the heavens and the Earth. This was the first time I found any reason to be interested in God, and my response then was to think that if that is so, there can't be anything more important in the world than knowing about God. (It wasn't a straight path, but about thirty years later I entered CHS.) 

There were several places in this book that led to deeper understanding of something already known, and a second reading is opening still more doors. You do not need a background in science or math to read and enjoy this book, but curiosity and a bit of adventurism would come in handy.

Each plant has its own way to attract us to its seeds, ranging from beautiful, juicy fruits to interesting pods. The dry beans we grow are gorgeous. My favorite is the Scarlet Runner bean--not only does it have an attractive red flower that becomes a huge bean pod, but the large seed is a shiny mottled black and purple.  Each plant also has a way to broadcast its 'children' that works best for its species. For example, the badminton bird seeds of dandelion and scorzonera plants are well adapted to the action of the wind. Animals help disperse seeds; I found out that squash seeds did well when my horse used to eat the rotten zucchinis that were thrown out into her pasture. Some seeds require cold temperatures to germinate, some need to be nicked with the blade of a knife, and others need to soak. Each little being is so beautiful and distinctive.

All of the various pods eventually communicate to me the best way in which to coax out their seeds. Some like to be shaken upside down, some need to be carefully stripped open, and others need to be either washed and dried or even fermented. Sometimes I'll sit for some time, trying many different ways to get a seed out of its pod, and then all of a sudden it comes to me how best to accomplish this.

Even better than harvesting and saving seeds is planting them! I really get to know them even better. Planting tiny seeds, such as celery and lavender, is eye-straining but worth it. Those little brown-striped and shiny black creatures will initially produce green cotyledons and then the first true leaves after that. Waiting for the little treasures to sprout is like waiting for ducklings to hatch. The anticipation is almost maddening, and when it finally happens you can hardly believe such a beautiful miracle is possible. God certainly works in mysterious ways when it comes to seeds!

--Emmanuel, CHS