Spring is such a refreshing season. I love the sight of the first green lawns after the months of brown gloominess that is winter. I love the smell of the grass and the spring rains, the blooming flowers, and blossoming trees. Spring also brings another pleasant little thing, though many would disagree: spring brings dandelions, and I am a firm believer in those bursting yellow petals. They receive a lot of hatred, most of which is unfounded. Dandelions are more than just a pesky weed to me, and the joy that these warmer months bring would be significantly lessened with the absence of dandelions.
Dandelions were the very first flower I gave to my mother. As a child, I remember plucking them from the fresh grass and bouncing through the door with a stem in hand, excited with my find. I chose the biggest, yellow dandelions I could find. My mother feigned her happiness, and my day went on as usual. I’m sure many children have presented their mothers with a bouquet of fresh dandelions, also; I am not an overly unique or innovative individual. Funny how people so easily forget.
I can recall springs and summers where I romped through big open fields, kicking the fuzzy dandelions blissfully, sending the fluff dancing and swirling about the air. I can remember plucking the biggest, roundest, most perfect fuzzy dandelion from the from yard and blowing on it until I was blue in the face, trying to make the puff disappear into the sky, so that whatever I wish for may come true. I also remember being reprimanded for this behavior, because my father told me that wishing in such a fashion is going to cause more of the wretched weeds to invade his precious lawn.
I’m not a florist, botanist, or even a gardener, and maybe if I were, my view would be skewed differently. For now, I cannot imagine why individuals can hate these flowers with such a passion, except for maybe those who suffer miserable allergies. Why is it such a nuisance to have the sun-yellow plants randomly spot your boring, green lawn? Why do people want such conformity? Do they feel threatened if they feel they cannot control their yards just so? Is this a subconscious effort an individual exerts because he can’t control his own life, or because he must live in a society that isn’t perfect? Does that vast stretch of perfectly manicured, dark green grass, represent the perfection they desire?
I don’t like perfection. It constantly clashes with the natural, because nature isn’t perfect. Dandelions are pleasant to me, and I welcome that glimpse I catch of them each spring with a smile.
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