![]() A woolly-bear caterpillar hurries across a ledge, going late to some tremendous transformation, but about this he knows as little as I. The seeds remain very quiet and some slip off into the crevices of the rock. We, the seeds and I, climb another wall together and sit down to rest, while I consider the best way to search for the secret of life. After all, who am I to contend against such ingenuity? It is obvious that nature, or some part of it in the shape of these seeds, has intentions beyond this field and has made plans to travel with me. A bit further I reach an unkempt field full of brown stalks and emptied seed pods.īy the time I get to the wood I am carrying all manner of seeds hooked in my coat or piercing my socks or sticking by ingenious devices to my shoestrings. I go carefully down the apartment steps and climb, instead of jump, over the wall. On some day when the leaves are red, or fallen, and just after the birds are gone, I put on my hat and an old jacket, and over the protests of my wife that I will catch cold, I start my search. ![]() ![]() I am middle-aged now, but in the autumn I always seek for it again hopefully. ![]()
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