They’re not random particles; they’re seeds engineered by evolution to use you. Burrs, stickseeds, and other clinging seeds grow along the edges of paths, fields, and forests, waiting for something warm and moving to pass by. Their tiny hooks, barbs, and hairs are nature’s Velcro, grabbing fabric, shoelaces, and even pet fur with uncanny precision and stubborn grip.
As you stroll, they ride unnoticed, then drop off in your yard, your driveway, even your living room rug. With every step, you unknowingly help them colonize fresh ground. They may be irritating to peel off, but their strategy is brilliant: turn every walker into a courier. Next time you brush them away outdoors, you’re not just cleaning your clothes—you’re interrupting a quiet, relentless migration written into the wild.
