Track 2 of the EP The Greenhouse in November · 2026
Seed Catalogue Winter
“Every winter I circle far too many seeds in pencil by the fire. This is the song of that small, stubborn hope.”
indie folk · acoustic folk · pastoral · 3:48
Lyrics
The catalogue came with the frost this week Dog-eared by the fire, my pencil's got no peak I circle the sweet peas, the beans, the bright chard Planning a summer while the ground is still hard Oh, winter is for dreaming in rows For ticking little boxes where nothing yet grows I'll hold every packet like a promise in paper And wait for the green to come and find me later Marigolds in orange, a poppy gone wild I write down the dates like a patient child Sow after the last frost, a hand's width apart Such careful instructions for a hopeful heart Oh, winter is for dreaming in rows For ticking little boxes where nothing yet grows I'll hold every packet like a promise in paper And wait for the green to come and find me later The window is white and the garden is sleeping But under the soil there's a slow, quiet keeping Every seed knows the hour it was made for Nobody has to hurry the spring I tuck the order form into the post A little bit of sunshine, a little bit of boast The kettle is humming, the evening is long And I'm already humming the first planting song Oh, winter is for dreaming in rows For ticking little boxes where nothing yet grows I'll hold every packet like a promise in paper And wait for the green to come and find me later Nobody has to hurry the spring Nobody has to hurry the spring