At the bottom of each little flower, as in the dandelion, is an akene. An akene, we remember, is a tight-fitting seed case containing one seed. The thistle akene also has a plume to fly with.
The thistle plume has no stalk, but grows right from the top of the akene. The plumed akenes are packed tightly away beneath the scaly bracts that surround them.
These bracts in the thistle are generally covered with sharp prickles. So, although one likes to look at a thistle and inhale its fragrance, it is not a pleasant flower to handle.
When the thistle seeds are ripe, the prickly covering loosens, and the akenes come trooping out in a soft, fluffy mass. Away they fly, one by one, as the breeze dislodges them and carries them off. They are much more showy than the dandelion akenes, for the plumes are much larger.
Away they go, this way and that, and after a while the wind blows them against a tree branch, or a fence rail, or a stone. Then the akene thus stopped drops off from the plume to the ground. The akene, in this case, is done sailing about. It has come to rest and very likely will lie until the next spring before it sprouts.
The plume is not harmed at all when the akene lets go, but at the next gust of wind flies on, lighter than ever.
One often sees these seedless plumes sailing about in the summer and fall.
People sometimes gather the heads of large thistles before the seeds are ripe, pull out the pink part of the flowers, carefully pull off the prickly bracts, and hang the rest up to dry. The akenes do not then fall off, but the plumy part fluffs out and makes a pretty pompon with which the children’s hats can be trimmed.