A springlike February finds a wetland full of fluff.
Walking on the overgrown horseback riding trail gives me a front row view of this frazzled bog of grasses and gone-to-seed cattails.
I don’t know why they’re called cattails because to me they look like hotdogs, but during the winter these upright cattail stalks turn into bundles of unkempt, tan, cottony down that fall apart and carry millions of tiny seeds on the breezes. Each fuzzy spike contains as many as 250,000 seeds.
In my neighborhood they cling to bushes, tree branches and window screens opened early to unseasonal spring breezes.
"Fluff so small and light it floats away on the breeze carrying the seeds of the future little niceties please and thank-yous so small and light they float away on the breeze carrying the keys to relationships."
CreatetheDawn
Since olden days the versatile fuzz of spent cattails has been used to make handmade paper, fire starters, torches, even absorbent dressings for wounds. The First People used it to stuff pillows, coats, shoes, children’s toys and even insulate small houses.
I’m contemplating on how it might correspond with little niceties that carry the seeds of relationships.
Thank you for reading and joining me on my walks.
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