First Crop
Dandelion: definition; noun
Vegetation; a perpetual perennial that flourishes in
any soil despite not being planted knowingly; resists eradication due to
prolific nature and determined disposition.
Resilient to grass mowing and proven to repopulate one’s yard the day
after any lawn is cut. Known to be the
subject of a disturbing children’s lyrical chant concerning babies and their
heads. A potential redeeming quality,
should you choose to appreciate it, is the bright yellow flower that blossoms
in early May.
Also see: weed, noxious weed, “razen frazen” weed, edible
greens, wine, pretty
This week I harvested the first crop of dandelions of the
season. True, last week I mowed for the
second time this spring and there were a few blooming dandelions scattered here
and there, but this last mow lopped off the heads of surely hundreds and potentially
thousands of dandelions.
I have stated previously that I am at peace with my “country
grass”. One advantage to living in the
country is not feeling obligated to have a well-manicured and weedless
lawn. Dandelions, however, really play a
country grass attitude to the full.
The truth is that dandelions flourish in my yard all
summer long. But they are really only
evident to the casual passer-by for about three weeks in May. Late September will see a spate of late season
bloomers, but the tidal wave of yellow is mostly a spring phenomenon. So, if I did feel any real embarrassment that
it is obvious that I have unilaterally surrendered to said dandelion, I only
need to grapple with any remorse for several weeks each year. My conscience has proven to be up to the task.
I actually do have respect for the dandelion for its
almost-unapparelled tenacity.
Well-beyond just simple lawn evasion, I have seen dandelions push their
way up in the middle of gravel parking lots and even black-topped country roads. Concrete does appear to be dandelion proof
but I have noted that some along my driveway have roots that lie under the edge
of the concrete where they are nearly perfectly protected from any attempts at
extraction and removal. Whether you
smile at dandelions or loathe them, you have to admire the way that they brazenly
live their life, especially when I consider all of the nursery-raised flowers
that I have carefully planted and pampered that insisted on dying young, like so
many heart-sick poets.
The dandelions in my yard that are now in full bloom
certainly rival most of what I have actually planted for sheer volume of
blossoms. And I admit that their bright
yellow heads are striking against the green of the grass and the blue of the
sky. When the dandelions go to seed in a
few weeks the yard will be full of gold finches who will stuff their bills with
fluff and seeds in a rather ‘amusing-to-watch’ feast.
So, the first crop of my dandelions is in. As expected, and the accompanying photo of my backyard illustrates, this morning, just two days
later, finds my yard once again awash in yellow polka dots. I choose to enjoy the show.
His Peace,
Deacon Dan
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