SEEDS ARE MADE to survive hardship. They’ve evolved in both obvious and surprising ways, some with shells as hard and smooth as ocean-worn stone to withstand the beak of a crow or the heel of a hiking boot; others, topped with a helicopter of silken hairs, to spin and dive on a breeze. They know how to hitch rides on the wings and backs of animals and have adapted to the various obstacles on their way to a fertile landing spot.
Last fall I visited Roberta Bailey, a sort of freelance seed saver. She’d recently retired from Fedco Seeds, one of the only seed co-ops in the country, and was now growing a variety
