How Do Seeds Spread?

Yet this giant redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) began as a tiny seed about the size of a grain of rice. That seed contained the complete genetic code to grow, function, and reproduce after its kind.

When plants grow too closely together, they compete for sunlight, water, and soil nutrients. For many plant species, seed dispersal is vital for successful germination and growth. The journey each seed takes from its source to its destination illustrates the Creator’s design.

God designed plants to reproduce after their kind (Genesis 1:11–12). In a choreography of seed dispersal, birds and forest creatures often eat a plant’s colorful fruit and later dispel the seeds in different locations as waste. Using burrs, barbs, and bristles, seeds attach to passing animals and eventually fall off to begin growing in new locations.

Though God could have preserved every plant in nature through the same method, he created a variety of fascinating ways for plants to be fruitful and multiply, spreading throughout creation.

Going Out with a Bang

Some seeds erupt violently from a seed pod. This form of ballistic seed dispersal (technically called explosive dehiscence) occurs through a variety of processes. A plant with one of the most intriguing ballistic seed dispersal methods is the squirting cucumber (Ecballium elaterium).

The hairy, oval-shaped pod of the squirting cucumber absorbs water as it grows. Then, when the pod’s internal pressure forces it to break away from its stalk, water and seeds erupt like a geyser through the stem opening. The seeds (typically 20–40 per pod) shoot out at up to 60 miles per hour (96.5 kph), landing anywhere from a few inches to over 15 feet away (4.5 m).

In contrast, the pods of touch-me-not plants have five valves that act as tension springs. When the pods are mature, the valves coil backward at the slightest touch or vibration, instantly flinging seeds in every direction.

Other plants that blast their seeds into the world are violets, mistletoes, and broom plants. Their pods expand or contract to eject seeds. Such complexity of design didn’t happen by accident. Instead, these fantastically fun flora point to the creativity of a master architect.

Up, Up, and Away

Kids love dandelions. Parents . . . not so much. Once dandelions pop up, it’s hard to keep them from overtaking a lawn. But whether a lovely flower or menacing weed, the common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) is anything but ordinary.

After the yellow petals fall off, a wispy white globe takes shape atop the stem. This globe is formed from dozens of tiny dry fruits called achenes, each topped with a tuft of bristles called a pappus. When a breeze ruffles the dandelion, the feathery pappus carries the dandelion seeds into the air. Some seeds catch a ride on warm updrafts that transport them up to five miles (8 km) from their source.

A recent study by physicists from the University of Edinburgh in Scotland revealed the dandelion’s astonishing design. Researchers discovered that airflow generates a donut-shaped vortex ring above the pappus as the air moves through its bristles. This invisible ring acts like a parachute to slow the seed’s descent.

Soaring Seed Bombers

The B-2 stealth bomber has one of the most innovative aircraft designs of the past 50 years. Hundreds of engineers worked for over a decade to develop this plane’s wings. What most people forget, however, is that a single-wing design had already been perfectly engineered some 6,000 years earlier by God.

In the tropical rainforests of Malaysia and Indonesia, the Alsomitra macrocarpa vine climbs the towering trees toward the sunlight. This gourd-producing vine, also known as the flying Javan cucumber (no relation to the squirting cucumber), grows a football-sized pod high up in the jungle canopy. At maturity, the pod’s shell dries and splits open, releasing hundreds of paper-thin glider wings, called samaras, into the air.

Averaging five to six inches wide (12.7–15.2 cm), each samara contains a thin seed in the front center of its wing. The width-to-length-to-weight ratio is perfectly balanced to provide maximum flying distance. The soaring seeds glide through the air, often traveling more than 400 feet (122 m) before landing in the jungle undergrowth. Once the wing rots away, the seed germinates and a new vine begins climbing the nearest tree.

That Seed Has Sailed

Not all seeds are small and light. Coconuts (Cocos nucifera) often exceed eight pounds (4 kg)—as heavy as a bowling ball. Surrounding the coconut’s white fruit is a hard brown shell with a fibrous husk. Air cavities within the husk serve multiple purposes. In addition to cushioning the coconut when it falls from heights of more than 75 feet (22.8 m), the air cavities also give the coconut buoyancy. However, that fibrous husk would become waterlogged without the waterproof membrane (exocarp) on the outside of the coconut. This skin seals in the air pockets and protects the embryonic seed from saltwater.

As these botanical seafarers drift for hundreds of miles, their internal fruit (endosperm) provides the embryo enough nutrients to stay alive. After surviving storms and rough seas, the coconut may wash ashore on a distant island where it will germinate. As it grows tall and reproduces, the coconut tree stands as a mighty witness to God’s ingenious way of preserving his creation.

Flourishing Under Fire

A bolt of lightning can strike the ground with one billion joules of energy. Such power is often the catalyst that starts a raging wildfire. With temperatures exceeding 1,400°F, the fire engulfs trees in its hungry flames, charring everything it touches.

Yet amid the destruction of a forest fire, new plants rise from the ashes. When chemical compounds from smoke or burnt vegetation soak into the soil, they trigger certain seeds lying dormant and insulated within the ground to immediately germinate in the ash-fertilized soil.

The seeds of the knobcone pine (Pinus attenuata) rely on fire in a different way. Known as serotinous cones, they require the intense heat to melt the hard layer of resin that keeps them trapped within the cone. After a forest fire passes, these pinecones release their seeds.

However, rather than all the seeds in a cone rushing out at once, most are contained until humidity causes the cones to slowly open their scales and release the seeds inside. It can take years for all the seeds to be dispersed, a process which gives the seeds a greater chance of taking root and regenerating the forest.

Only the master Creator could have designed a seed capsule that requires its greatest threat (fire) to initiate its own regrowth.