Source A: A shelf for next spring

An original contemporary non-fiction-style practice text, written for this question.

When I first offered to set up a seed library, I imagined a bright row of jars and a handwritten sign. The corner I was given was a cupboard beside the back door. Every time it opened, a draught sent my labels skittering across the floor.

I tried keeping the packets in a cardboard box. By the end of the week, the box had softened where rain blew in beneath the door. I stood there with a handful of curled labels and thought: so much for my grand little library.

The next Saturday, I brought a wooden shelf from home. It was too wide. We took it apart, shortened the sides and tried again. This time it fitted. I fixed small envelopes to each shelf and wrote the names of the seeds in a notebook as well as on the packets. If a label slipped, the notebook kept the name safe.

People began leaving seeds they had saved from their own gardens. One person brought beans in a jam jar; another tucked a note beside some flower seeds: “These came up even in the shade.” The shelf no longer looked like my neat row of jars. It looked better: like a place that had been used.

By spring, neighbours were borrowing packets and bringing others back. The cupboard door still catches in wet weather, and I still have to check the notebook when a label goes missing. But the shelf is there, holding more possibilities than I could have planted alone. Take a packet, if you pass by. Next spring may begin with something small.