🌿 Hello from Across the Border

A story of seeds, spores, and quiet curiosity in a Japanese kitchen

Have you ever tried planting a seed from something you ate—just because it was delicious?
Maybe you thought: If I could grow this myself, I’d never have to buy it again.
I’ve tried it many times. And most of the time… it doesn’t work.

Here in Akita, northern Japan, the soil is rich and generous.
Foreign vegetables like potatoes, garlic, shallots, and arugula grow surprisingly well.
But tropical fruits like avocados? Not so much.

Still, I can’t help myself.
Even knowing the climate isn’t right, I feel a quiet thrill of possibility.
What if it does grow?
What if I could see its stem, its leaves—right here in my kitchen?

🥑 The Avocado Experiment

Avocados are beloved in Japan.
We mash them into dips, slice them into rice bowls, toss them into salads.
They’re full of potassium, folate, fiber—good for beauty, good for health.
So naturally, I thought: I’ll grow my own.

I took the seed from a store-bought avocado,
flipped the top of a plastic bottle upside down, filled it with water,
and let the bottom of the seed soak.

When the hard shell cracked and the sprout emerged…

I was amazed.
It must have been surprised too—waking up in Japan!

“Hello from across the border,” I whispered.

The sprout grew quickly in water, stretching toward the light.
Too quickly, in fact—it became long and leggy from lack of sun.

Just before I moved it to a pot, it looked like it was searching for something.
“Where am I?” it seemed to ask.

I planted it in soil and placed it in the sunroom.
But Akita’s winter was too harsh.
It couldn’t survive.

A friend of mine kept hers indoors, in a sunny spot, and it made it through the cold.
Still, getting it to bear fruit is a whole other challenge.

🍄 A Mushroom from Somewhere Else

I often buy tiny houseplants from the 100-yen shop.
They’re so small and charming—I can’t resist.

After planting a few together and placing them on my kitchen windowsill,
I noticed something strange:
a tiny mushroom had appeared.

It was round, pale, and unfamiliar.
Cute, but mysterious.

I took a photo, then gently removed it.
I didn’t want spores flying around my kitchen.

But I couldn’t help thinking:
Even spores cross borders now.
Carried by wind, hidden in soil—traveling quietly, invisibly.
And then, one day, they appear.
Just like this one did, in my kitchen.

Maybe it came from a place with a climate like mine.
Maybe it felt at home here.

🎁 A Seed from Japan, for You

If you ever find Japanese produce with seeds still inside—try planting them.
I recommend pumpkin.

Pumpkins cross-pollinate easily, so if you plant different varieties nearby,
you might get something unexpected.
But that’s part of the fun.

You never know what kind of life will sprout.
And sometimes, it says hello from across the border.