Seeing the title of this post one might well think, 'Why, what's so special about coriander?' A herb that's been a backyard staple for millions of households across the world elevated to the league of some hallowed species? Sacrilegious!
Ah, but there's reason to celebrate. Regular readers of this blog have often 'heard' me whine about my lack of space. A ribbony strip on the western part of our compound has been the sole preserve for tomatoes. They're just too precious NOT to be planted! A tomato-less garden, in my opinion, is devoid of a soul!! And so, this space has always been considered tomato-sacred. Tomatoes in winter and no other crop except okra in summer, on this particular strip of good mother earth.
Revelation came to me only this year (please don't laugh) after I'd not only prepared the soil for planting but had also planted the tomatoes. I had sown the seeds in a pot earlier. With the soil in the gaps between the plants staring back at me, the temptation to use the spaces was a bit too much! I bought the coriander seeds, soaked them, and in no time they sprouted and almost every brown space had a green coriander cover.
I didn't have to wait long for the picking, and the generous garnishing for almost anything that I cooked! And now that the blooming tomato plants are about two feet high,it's almost time to say goodbye to Coriandrum sativum L. In previous years I've planted them in wooden containers but the thought of a bed, on the ground, was something I'd always wished for.Well, even a shared bed is good enough! Hence, the celebration!
Glory be to God for dappled things- For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings; Landscape plotted and pieced--fold, fallow, and plough; And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim. All things counter, original, spare, strange; Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: Praise him. Gerard Manley Hopkins
The first flowering shrub I planted on our land
Every flower is a soul blooming in Nature.-Gerard De Nerval
Shall I not have intelligence with the earth? Am I not partly leaves and vegetable mould myself? -Henry David Thoreau