Six hundred and thirty-two. That’s how many tiny brown seeds my daughter and I have collected from the mesquite tree outside of her school.
We open the dried seed pods that are scattered on the ground. We look at each seed with surprise and delight and drop the tiny seeds into the cup.
It’s been six weeks of collecting seeds after school each day. During the first few days, I had lots of ideas of what we might do with the collection. I suggested we could plant them and see if they would grow in our backyard. I said we might be able to make maraca shakers out of them. I thought it might be fun to glue them to paper and make a design.
At each suggestion, my daughter would look at me quizzically and shake her head. “No,” she would say decidedly, “we are just collecting them.”
That is the purpose. There is not a goal we are trying to reach. When the cup becomes full, I am guessing we will simply get a bigger cup or maybe dump the seeds out and leave a pile next to the tree.
Not everything is movement toward something. Sometimes it is just about being in the moment — with your daughter — collecting seeds.