Helicopter Seeds

As I was heading out to work this morning, I walked by a chair on the back porch and saw this little guy stuck in the chair.

I stopped to take a few shots.

Because I have all the time in the world in the morning. I don't rush around at all.

I'm always amazed when I take time to stop and really see something. 

God designed this seed perfectly.  The wing (pericarp) of the helicopter seed spins it slowly so it can meander its way down to earth, catching the wind, and dispersing it to faraway parts. Because the maple tree has such a large shade cover, the seed has to be blown far enough away so it can take root and flourish and not be shaded by its parent.

But sometimes they land in the wrong place. Like this little seed. He came down on a wrought iron chair. 

No dirt. No water. No nourishment at all. He's not going to make it. 

Poor little seed.

And aren't we like that? We flutter through life, getting blown around by circumstances surrounding us, and sometimes landing in the wrong place. Getting stuck on something. Trying to make it work even when we know it won't. 

But we have an advantage over that poor little seed.

We can move.

I look at that seed and I see the maple tree it could have grown up to be.

And that makes me a little sad.