PACKAGES
I ONCE read a perfect definition: "A seed
is a plant packed for transportation.
The Creator has many and diverse methods
of packaging, labeling, and advertising. Seeds are variously
packed for different kinds of transportation. Buds, on the
other hand, He packs for storage, fitting each container to
the place and hazards of deposit.
Before ever the cold winds and rains and
the explosive frosts of winter came upon His trees, shrubs,
and perennial plants, He had this spring's leaves and
flowers perfectly packed against dampness, freezing, and
wind damage. Before the leaves fell last autumn, each one
had its successor cradled at its base.
Talk about streamlining to avoid wind
resistance and damage! Buds had it before Fisher bodies.
Beech buds spend their winters on the tips of slender twigs,
stuck right out into the gales. But the sharp-pointed,
wind-resistant slimness of beech buds is a delightsome
sight. Pussy willow flower buds, made chubby by their furry
contents, are ranged along stout, sturdy stems as wide as
they are. Dogwood buds, which, because they hold both
flowers and their surrounding colored bracts, must be big
and fat and yet must be at the ends of twigs, are saved from
pounding by winter winds by swinging stems instead of the
stiff wands of the pussy willows. Willows, the flower buds
of which are less obese than the pussies, hang them on
swaying boughs. Packages and storage places planned last
autumn have functioned all winter till this spring in
fulfilling God's primeval promise: "While the earth
remaineth, seedtime and harvest . . . shall not cease."
No parachute packing can excel the
folding of tiny leaves into their containers. Examine
unfolding buds this month and note how the skeletal veins of
the leaf supported the pressure of the bud case, the tender
flat surfaces of the baby leaf being safe in the internal
space of the bud. A bursting buckeye bud will well repay a
thoughtful quarter hour of contemplation of divine
mechanics. The first Chinese folding-fan or umbrella makers
probably studied buds as their models.
Bud beauty feasts souls with observant
eye-windows. No society belles look more regal than colorful
hickory buds lifting their curved shoulders from their
fur-lined satin winter capes. Oak-leaf buds are warmly
clothed in royal crimson velvet in that combination of
utilitarian service and aesthetic loveliness that
characterizes the ways of God.
Delivery time of God's packages beats
human "special delivery." Big, furry flower buds, not easily
freezable, open early. Maple buds open early and mature
their seeds swiftly, so that even though spring storms beat
off multitudes of their winged twins, the tough,
parchment-like seed coverings achieve for their contents a
minimum of damage from cold and wet. Big-boned walnut and
hickory buds, the structures of which require great strength
to support immense compound leaves, open very late to escape
frost damage.
God's name is written on every bursting
bud. The labels on His bud-storage boxes are love of beauty,
love of life, and perfect functionalism.
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