This is my post on #freewriters3102 #dailyprompt scatter the seed hosted by 
The sun hung low over the red earth of the village, casting long, golden shadows across the ancestral farmland. Uko and Ukpong, brothers bound by blood but divided by temperament, stood at the edge of the cleared bush. Between them sat a woven basket overflowing with heirloom seeds—their father’s final legacy.
"The soil is thirsty, Ukpong," Uko whispered, his voice thick with reverence. "We must place each seed with care, deep enough to hide from the birds, shallow enough to feel the rain."
Ukpong, restless and eager for the harvest before the planting had even begun, laughed. "The sky is bruising purple, brother. If we linger on precision, the rains will wash the soil away before we finish. We must scatter the seed and trust the wind."
With a wide, sweeping motion, Ukpong grabbed a handful and flung it. The grains took flight like tiny brown birds, peppering the earth in a chaotic dance. He moved with a frantic energy, believing that abundance was a matter of volume and speed.
Uko sighed, kneeling. He began to work in the wake of his brother’s whirlwind, pressing the scattered seeds into the dirt and spacing them where they fell too thick.
The Balance of the Harvest
As the first heavy drops of the May rains hit the dust, the brothers retreated to the hut.
Ukpong provided the coverage, ensuring no corner of the field was left barren.
Uko provided the foundation, ensuring the strongest seeds would take root.
Weeks later, the field spoke the truth of their labor. Where Ukpong had scattered, a wild, green carpet emerged; where Uko had tended, the stalks grew tall and straight. Together, their different methods ensured that even if the crows took some, the village would still feast.