I spent the entire afternoon yesterday blowing and vacuuming up the 387,936,413 (more or less) maple tree seed helicopters produced by the single mature maple tree in my yard. There’s still a lot more hiding in the grass hoping they won’t be spotted before they put out feelers to grab enough earth to breathe on their own.
When you think about it, my maple tree has a pretty low opinion of the world around it being kind enough and having enough concern for their neighbors to give even a few of those seeds the opportunity to become powerful trees and themselves give back to their environment in future generations.
So, instead of strutting its glory with magnificent “look at what I do for you” leaf displays that shade our kitchen deck so we can escape the sun and heat and rest in its shade, it grunts and squeezes out more seeds than it thinks we can destroy, all in the effort to be allowed to help us out later on. Where is our appreciation and gratitude?