Many consider it a pesky weed, but there are life lessons to be learned from the lowly dandelion, soon to pop up on suburban lawns. There it will be mowed down, pulled up, and otherwise dispatched as unwelcome.
But despite its reputation as a bothersome guest, the dandelion has attributes many of us should envy, including its tenacity under pressure.
Nature writer and novelist Hal Borland summed that up nicely when he noted, “You fight dandelions all weekend, and late Monday afternoon there they are, pert as all get-out in full and gorgeous bloom…thriving as only dandelions can in the face of adversity.”
Writer Marty Rubin took a wider view, asserting,“Dandelions spring up where civilizations have been destroyed.”
Such grit, however, is more annoying than appreciated by most of us – even though this hardy little flower has persevered for some 30 million years.
In a few days, on April 5th, we’ll be encouraged to celebrate the qualities of this irrepressible blossom on “National Dandelion Day.”
As under-rated as the flower it honors, this “holiday” is said to have been created by a student at the University of Rochester way back in 1951.
Its advocates remind us how useful the dandelion is, with its vitamin and mineral content, ability to enhance a salad, its contributions as a pollinator, and its capacity to morph into wine.
In a semi-autobiographical novel, author Ray Bradbury wrote, “Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stopped…sealed away for opening on a January day with snow falling fast and the sun unseen for weeks.”
After this past winter, who can’t relate to that?
The dandelion has inspired those who stoop to admire it.
Social reformer Henry Ward Beecher wrote, “It gives one a sudden start going down a barren , stony street, to see… the radiant dandelion, shining in the grass, like a spark dropped by the sun.”
And this unassuming flower has even been praised in verse, especially for how it transforms into a greying puffball whose seeds float on little parachutes, starting a new generation where they land.
Wrote the poet Suzy Kassem in her ”Hymn to the Divine Dandelion:”
I am born as the sun,
But then turn into the moon,
As my blonde hairs turn
Grayish-white and fall to
The ground,
Only to be buried again,
Then to be born again,
Into a thousand suns
And a thousand moons.
What child has never plucked one of those delicate globes and, with an exuberant breath, sent its seeds gliding on their way?
Folklore adds still more sparkle to the golden dandelion. Legend says if you blow its seeds into the air, they will carry your thoughts and affection to loved ones far distant. And if you can blow off all the seeds in a single breath, someone you love will love you back.
That pleasant thought in itself deserves attention. It’s one more attribute of this botanical wallflower that tells us beauty can be found even in the mundane, if only we pause to appreciate it.
Gerry Goldstein (gerryg76@verizon.net), a frequent contributor, is a retired Providence Journal editor and columnist.