Rounding the bend Asha and I are greeted by seeds attached to cottony fluff floating lazily on a breeze. Rising, falling. Drifting with the direction of the wind on their unhurried journey.
Farther along the trail I find a source: catkins of olive-green capsules, small and open, with an astonishing amount of downy seeds spilling out.
How can so much fit into such a tiny space? I marvel.
As I experiment with tucking the seeded tufts back inside the capsules, I feel like I’m meddling. So much would be lost if I forced them in.
I return the catkin to the trail and whisper, “Be free. Fly. Flourish.”
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