Planting what you want, where you want it, takes just the right touch.
When I was very young, I considered gardening to be work. Hard work. Out in the sun, sweating, hoeing, pulling weeds, bent over in uncomfortable positions. I loved it, just the same. I was fascinated by the process of planning, which usually began in the winter when the seed catalogs would come in the mail, and we had time on our hands, and there was usually snow on the ground. A big plot of dirt was selected for it's access to sun and water. Seeds were selected for health and nutrition consideration. What would be consumed, picked and pickled in the upcoming months by us as a family and occasionally what would become contributions to other family members and friends began it's lot as a simple seed.
Amazingly, the rows were fairly straight. Water generally flowed to it's intended target zone, and was a large responsibility if you were told to go 'change the water'. The majority of the plants sprouted and proliferated from the gentle touch that placed them in the soil before the sunshine and moisture pressured them into germination.
Farm life, in general, was like that for me. Now, in my older years, I wish I would have been more thankful for the bounty that was produced by gentle hands that had just the right touch.