May 18, 2010
The Dandelion Effect, ME Newsletter, Vol. 3, Issue 20
Even if you prefer pristinely pampered lawns, you have to appreciate the amazing and delicate beauty of a mature dandelion. The strongest stalwart weed becomes a fragile flower… most beautiful as it is about to disintegrate. Transforming into delicate architecture, the structural nature is completely at the potentially destroying mercy of even the slightest whispering breezes.
Saturday night on the porch, kept company by April and May rescued black labs, Gary a rescued gray kitten, Fluffy a friendly old blackish-brownish barn cat, a human friend, a glass of wine, and an unusual sunset view. Low western clouds blocked out the majority of the show, but a glorious pink-orange peeked in around them and settled on the northern horizon.
So there we were, two good friends a little into dusk, sipping Pentemere sweet apple wine, contentedly watching happily adjusted 3-year old puppies run random but strangely organized figure eights, getting swatted by kitty clawed paws and tiger-striped tails.
There’s usually not much evening traffic out there in the middle of Britton’s fields but one of those infrequent, fast moving cars came barreling down the quiet road, quickly dismissing our peaceful and only partial isolation.
I missed it the first time. Wouldn’t have even known about it unless my friend had questioned, “Did you see the dandelions glow?” It wasn’t the reserved sunset streaks that cause the dandelion effect; car headlights cut across the pre-barn fields dotted with patiently waiting flocks of clocks.
I paid more attention the next time I spotted a car on the horizon. As it swished past, I saw the fluffy weeds in an entirely new light. Halogen light hit wispy white filaments. At first the glow shattered, then echoed a few long seconds within the seemingly suspended, floating orbs.
Once the moment and the vehicle had passed, a ripple of forced air flowed through the grass. I can’t say for sure, but I imagine there must have been at least a few less flower-heads. Not exactly going out in a blaze of glory, but hosting a brief shining moment, we were lucky enough to share.
So, yes, dandelions are weeds. And, yes, they are surprisingly strong rooted.
And, yes, they eventually turn from golden petals into gorgeous seedling tufts of luminescent withering threads - undoubtedly one of GOD’s most intricate designs. Strong enough to hold themselves together until the right moment sweeps over them, riding on GOD’s well-placed wind to where they will have the opportunity to grow again. So, maybe falling apart isn’t so bad when you are letting go under GOD’s command. Maybe falling apart is the only way there is to truly give away pieces of ourselves to HIM and to others.
In this issue: Dandelions, Lawns, Top 10 Reasons Why People Move, Possibilities & Opportunities
Now posted: New Orleans, October 2009, Fitting It All In
Posted by jaselin at May 18, 2010 02:21 PM