Trust: The Milkweed’s Lesson
I photographed the milkweed yesterday because its filaments were so beautiful against the deep blue sky. It’s such an ugly duckling of a plant as it grows, as hardy and prolific in my field as dandelions in an untended lawn and as easily brushed aside as a mere weed. But oh! When it matures, its bursting pods reveal such a miracle of seeds, so neatly packed, so beautifully dressed for flight.
The beauty of its seeds, though, is but one aspect of its amazing being. Its nectar feeds bees, and it’s the sole food source for larval monarch butterflies. Its filaments are more insulating than down feathers and make a wonderful hypoallergenic filling for pillows. Its sap will remove warts and soothe poison ivy. All this, from one lowly weed!
And this is just one tiny example of the miracles nature designs, one little glimpse into the way things work together to support the whole interwoven network of being. The dance is so beautifully choreographed, from the tiniest cell to the vast nebulae of space. How can we not trust that we, too, are a part of its intelligence and order? The proof is everywhere.

