THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, December 2, 1995 TAG: 9512020001
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A13 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Opinion
LENGTH: Medium: 57 lines
A Chinese lotus seed that sprouted into green life after a sleep of 1,288 years has sparked an investigation into the mechanics of its survival. Indeed, something may be learned that will be helpful to science in slowing down the aging process, according to an Associated Press report on the ``Methuselah seed'' (the headline description).
This bit of news had a particular timeliness for me, since I had just conducted a personal experiment in connection with some seeds that were also of astonishing age.
Awhile back, my wife and I received a little packet from Ivan Conger, a history-minded friend she had known for some years in her Michigan hometown. What he had sent us were several hard, flat ovals about the size of fingernails. He explained - bolstered by a accompanying newspaper clipping - that not long ago some squash seeds about 2,000 years old (carbon-dated) had been found, undamaged by man or elements, in Utah.
They proved to be quite fertile, despite all those years of inaction, and readily germinated into squash-bearing plants. Donna and I were the recipients of some of the seeds from squash grown in the new generations. Ivan thought we might be interested in joining others, like him, who were keeping the line going.
We thought the project would be fun, so the seeds went into the ground a few months ago. In fact, I planted on two different occasions. On the first go-round, almost nothing showed up. A few of the seeds seemed to try, only to have the green shoots snipped off near the ground by something or other.
The follow-up sowings did somewhat better, but not much. We had about a dozen little squash plants, but with suspiciously small leaves, looking at us each morning for a while. But they never got more than three or four inches tall, and then when little yellow blossoms appeared, these either disappeared into thin air or slumped to the ground. With the first coolness of fall, everything vanished altogether.
This was in stunning contrast to what Ivan has since told me that he and others experienced: Waist-high clumps of green in some instances; large, luxuriant leaves; lots of long runners, one measuring about 100 feet; and oodles of plump, colorful squash, something like our modern Hubbards (from which, of course, more seeds could be taken to spread around for more future descendants of those Utah ``Methusalehs'').
So, I was left with this to ponder: The amazing powers in those tough little kernels of life, which neither time nor harsh Western climate could kill, expired in nothing flat when brought up against something agriculturally sinister in our back yard.
Could it have been the soil? An unfriendly climate in coastal Virginia? Bugs and/or rabbits with a yen for vintage greenery?
Or, more likely, could it be that I just don't know how to grow squash? MEMO: Mr. Hebert, a former editor, lives in Norfolk. by CNB