Fruits of My First Season: Seeds Believe in Sunlight


As Saturn began its retrograde cycle earlier this year, I entered a period of tremendous emotional pain as I struggled to reconcile the values I hold sacred to the life I am living. Saturn and I have a lifelong history of highlighting my relationship to animals and the innate knowledge of my soul that veganism is part of the path I am intended to walk in this lifetime. My first Saturn return was all about coming back to this value, and this subsequent retrograde cycle was about aligning that value to the way I actually live.

I planned and planted my garden in this spirit. After coming back from a period of self-induced starvation or fasting, I acknowledged my need to get ‘roots in the ground.’ See, my Saturnal values are not solely about the restrictiveness of veganism or abstaining from animal products. They are about truly tending and fathering a world that goes beyond civilized agriculture, beyond domestication, beyond invasive cultivars, and beyond an industry status quo.

One of the affirmations I developed for myself at this time was ‘seeds believe in sunlight.’ As I planted mine—unsure that anything would grow—I put my own belief in self in the soil with them. I prayed for sunlight alongside them. I prayed that we would root and grow from the darkness and isolation we felt at the beginning of the season.

As other renovation projects at my house wrecked areas of the garden, and periods of both unbearable heat and constant rains threatened growth, it seemed for a while that nothing would actually grow this season. I reminded myself of the rational goals I’d set: that this first season was an experiment. I wanted to see what I could grow, if anything.

Then something shifted. Mars Pater revealed himself to me as a patron of veganic homesteading and permaculture, of thirtysomethings trying to walk in harmony with the wild, and of men leaving behind lifetimes in animal agriculture, enslavement, torture, and slaughter for gardens that are wept into abundance for their families and beyond.

My garden took off. My okra began fruiting at a rate I couldn’t keep up with and still can’t. My gourds overtook most of my growing space, and began covering the roof with enormous long-handle gourds. Peppers and tomatoes appeared everywhere, persevering despite my certainty that they’d all died months before. One day, a woodpecker (sacred to Mars) even landed at the base of a volunteer sunflower of some kind, performed a dirt bathing dance, and then flew back to the nearby woods.

The end of this growing season follows the completion of the planetary retrogrades of Saturn, Mars, and Mercury—and I am reminded that these cycles are more than just internal or abstract processes we traverse. I am blessed with this bounty of Terra Mater and Mars Pater in this first season of my growing here. I am looking ahead to future plans for this space. I am remembering the affirmation—the faith, the tears, the sacred values—that brought me here. And my stomach is full as I’m doing so.

Blessed be these first fruits.


Pat Mosley (NC LMBT #16882) is a licensed massage and bodywork therapist in the Winston-Salem area. His work is rooted in compassionate touch, permaculture, and deep ecology with the resilience of all Earth's children in mind. Connect with him via email to

HomesteadingPat Mosley