Cottonwood Spring

They say that if you catch a cottonwood seed, you should make a wish. It's almost like wishing on a shooting star. Something rare.... something special.

Where I come from, cottonwood seeds float on air like heavy snow does in winter. They swirl and dance about like little white faeries, taunting you with their flighty ease. You'll be standing outside on a warm spring day and one will brush your cheek or arm in a soft 'hello'.. the sway off on it's merry way to goodness knows where.

It's amazing to watch them fly. Three or four mature trees close to each other can make it seem like you're almost in the middle of a blizzard. Birdsong in the background... nesting Orioles calling to each other, the wet rush of the Maumee rivers water over well battered stones as sunlight sneaks through the green canopy overhead.... it's almost like a private paradise.

Catching the cottonwood seeds is a real trick. They're so light that the slightest whiff of air will send the spinning. Kids always grab at the little seeds as the meander on the currents of air. They never catch them though. They're too eager, trying too hard and missing... and yet they try again and again, missing till they find something more interesting to do.

If you really want to catch a cottonwood seed, all you have to do is wait. They'll come in their own time, floating about your head in a 'you can't catch me' manner. Be patient, hold out a hand just so when you see one close enough. Don't make any sudden moves, you'll push it away with the air your hand makes. Watch it float into your hand and close your fingers gently.... then open.

Make a wish.

Blow softly and let it go.



I've caught enough seeds this year, made more then enough wishes.... of course, none have them have come true. Neither have the ones from last year, but that doesn't bother me a bit.

All I can do is learn. Work at everything as I did at catching the cottonwood. Be patient, be calm, and know that good things come to those who wait. I need to stop rushing like kids going after flights of fancy... because, at some point, it'll float my way... and all I have to do is hold onto it.