"the touch, the feel of cotton: the fabric of our lives," said the once-upon-a-time jingle. really? (tangent: i had a conversation with someone this weekend about the demise of the jingle. have the days of good jingles really gone the way of good sitcoms? sad. but perhaps a topic for another post, as this is not about jingles at all.)
i saw my first cotton plant today. well, i think it was my first. the first i remember, anyhow. did you know there's a hard seed inside that fluffy puff? it got me thinking, you know...so i did some reading about cotton.
the cotton plant starts out with just leaves, then develops a beautiful flower. that flower has to wither and die in order to reveal the boll, a seed pod. that seed pod swells and swells until it bursts, revealing the soft puff of cotton that will become a t-shirt or sweater or blanket.
can our lives be described in this way? immature leaves, eagerly sprouting up and displaying showy flowers that wither and die as we mature. pods of potential, full of seeds just bursting to get out, which must wait and wait until just the right moment. something useful and comforting and soft, bearing inside it the residue of hard things, all at once the reminder of what came before the softness and the promise of future growth.
1 comment:
Ah, I love this, Daniele. There is so much in nature that illustrates the sanctification life... I have never considered myself "outdoorsy" but living in the Wild West, and having children, has really opened my eyes (and ears) to the evocations of truth that are ringing out from within the created world... thank you for sharing this...
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