“A weed is but an unloved flower.”
- Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I have always loved dandelions. A lawn that is yellow and fuzzy with their blooms is almost magical. When I was little, I believed that if you ever were to find a unicorn, it would almost certainly be in a field of dandelions.
I’m not sure which I like better: the sunshine yellow flower stage or the silver silky seed head stage. There are a handful of days each year when the air is full of dandelion fluffs that float up to the sky and then down to collect in drifts along the sidewalk and it is like a summer scene in a snow globe.

I remember my aunt’s funeral. It was this time of May, several years ago. The day was warm and bright and as we stood in the cemetery, the air was thick with dandelion seeds that floated on the wind and caught in our hair and enveloped us in an airy and ethereal dance. It was beautiful and peaceful. And fitting.

The Dandelions

Upon a showery night and still,
Without a sound of warning,
A trooper band surprised the hill,
And held it in the morning.

We were not waked by bugle-notes,
No cheer our dreams invaded,
And yet, at dawn, their yellow coats
On the green slopes paraded.

We careless folk the deed forgot;
Till one day, idly walking,
We marked upon the self-same spot
A crowd of veterans talking.

They shook their trembling heads and gray
With pride and noiseless laughter;
When, well-a-day! they blew away,
And ne’er were heard of after!

Helen Gray Cone [1859-1934]

Additional Resources:
Fun with Dandelions! This is a great page from Universal Preschool full of dandelion facts, lore and activities. Forget preschool, *I* want to do a bunch of those things.
All entries in the Nature Journal series from Suburban Green is People.
Nature Deficit Disorder: How this series began.