“It gives one a sudden start in going down a barren, stony street, to see upon a narrow strip of grass, just within the iron fence, the radiant dandelion, shining in the grass, like a spark dropped from the sun.” Henry Ward Beecher
Why is a rose thought to be more beautiful than a dandelion? -- Photo by Pat Bean
Travels With Maggie
I’ve taken my daily walks with my dog, Maggie, while visiting my daughter here in the Dallas suburbs in Rowlett’s Springfield Park. There’s a nice pond, which on my visits has been full of wigeons, coots, cormorants and shovelers, and a paved path that goes all the way around it.
For variety, one can wander over to a slow-moving creek that borders the park and watch, if you’re lucky, a turtle or two, and perhaps spot a ruby-crowned warbler flitting among the tree branches.
Creek turtle -- Photo by Pat Bean
Despite being winter, the park still has green grass, although much of it lies beneath crackling brown tree leaves. On my most recent walk, I came across a sight that always delights me, the unloved dandelion.
Perhaps seeing dandelions springing up unwanted in someone’s lawn or in a landscaped park thrills me because I’ve always been for the underdog. Or perhaps it’s because their bright yellow color brings joy to my soul. Or perhaps it is because I love the wild freedom of a flower that can’t be tamed?
Future generations of dandelions waiting for the wind. -- Photo by Pat Bean
The dandelions were blooming, I suspected, because of Texas’ recent warm weather spell – which last night disintegrated to cold and rainy.
Along with spotting the few dandelions this past Friday, I also saw evidence that some of the golden youngsters had already passed their prime. The elderly among the dandelions had dropped their petals and were white-headed, and in various stages of dispersing their life forces to the wind. They do it with a promise that many more dandelions will invade many more lawns come spring.
How is it, I wondered, that we humans can ooh and aah over a field of bluebonnets but be turned off by a lawn full of dandelions? Who decided what is beautiful and proper and what is not?
Is there something wrong with my DNA because I can love a dandelion as much as a lily?
Aha, my wondering brain concluded as I pondered these questions, perhaps it is those who can’t appreciate the yellow glow of happiness that a dandelion symbolizes who inherited the defective DNA gene?
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