Taraxacum officinale, captured on film just a few days ago.
Bunnies and eggs are all very well for fertility symbols — and the former are certainly a marketer’s dream. (Cute and cuddly sells so well.) But I think dandelions must have been in the running when the pagans made their choice for the festival celebrating the return of spring.
I wonder, if they had adopted this little flower with its vitamin-loaded greens, and then the Christian overlay-holiday of Easter had adopted it, too, would our culture ever have developed such horrors as Roundup? (I amuse myself daydreaming about alternate scenarios, an especially poignant exercise ever since F. explained the idea of the multiverse to me.)
Obviously, I am a fan of the dandelions. Long ago, when taken by a man I was dating to have dinner at his mother’s house, I knew it just wasn’t going to work out before we even reached the front door: while walking up the path, he bent over and yanked three dandelions viciously out of her lawn, complaining that she wasn’t vigilant enough at guarding the turf from weeds. Sadly for our relationship, I ended up liking the man much less than his mother. (She had a lovely garden, a rare wit, and a sweet laugh.)
It may seem strange for a gardener to confess that, in effect, she loves a weed. But the dandelion was not always viewed as such, and is still cultivated and sold in some parts of the world (notably Italy and the south of France). I still do not understand how this plant could have gone from beloved health food and medicinal, source of such wonders as dandelion wine, coffee substitute, and yellow dye, to public enemy number one, the pinnacle of noxious weeds in such a short period of time, and especially in consideration of its usefulness as a food source for bees, its history as a familiar and useful addition to the human diet, and not least its charming, sunny appearance.
Its common name in English today comes from the old French “dent de lion,” or lion’s tooth, a fanciful description of the plant’s distinctive serrated foliage, which is packed with more nutrients than spinach. Two hundred years ago, mothers were serving high-vitamin dandelion, both flowers and leaves, in a variety of ways to curtail a range of symptoms, and dandelion tea was a well-known diuretic (which explains the plant’s unfortunate common name in modern French, pissenlit, or pee in bed). In fact, its latin name, Taraxacum officinale, is derived from the Greek for “remedy for disorders.”
Yet they are so despised today that there is even a Facebook group where members commiserate in their hatred of dandelions and discuss their efforts to eradicate them. Their description page reads in part as follows: “We are tired of going outside to our yards and seeing their ugly, yellow faces staring up at us. Our goal is to rid the universe of their yellowness all over our yards.”
Ugly? Seriously?
This drastic cultural about-face is enough to leave me bewildered. But count me as a rebel, part of the counterculture, because I love them and will always enjoy watching their glorious golden return in spring, followed by those wonderful “fairy clocks,” as the white, shimmering spheres of the magical seed heads are still known.
After all, what childhood would be complete without a million parachute-equipped seeds blown out into the world, one lungful of hope at a time?
The last dandelion of autumn, photographed in November.
And Leo, come to investigate what I could be doing lying on the ground with my face up next to a flower.
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Looking at your beautiful pictures, I could almost love them – almost
Cyndy´s last blog ..Window Views
Glad to have achieved an almost.
Meredith, These are fabulous photos! I don’t see how anyone looking at these could go away thinking dandelions are some kind of scourge.
Jean´s last blog ..Garden Blogs of the Month: April 2010
Thank you for that lovely compliment, Jean. You’d be surprised about what folks can come away thinking, as the cultural programming on this topic is pretty strong. Well, no, maybe you wouldn’t be; you are a sociologist, after all.
So I’m not the only one who rolls around in the dirt to get the picture. Also, so those are the seeds that end up in my yard to my chagrin. Noce pics and post. jim
Jim Groble´s last blog ..Where the sweet peet went.
I definitely will grovel on the ground for the right angle, Jim.
It is good to know I’m in such fine company!
I’m afraid you might not like this gardener, as I’ve yanked at least a hundred dandelions out of the lawn and garden this past week. Hmmm… I was actually proud of it. Such hard work for a lazy gardener! I know what you mean, though. I’ve heard stories that the colonists actually planted them on purpose here. I have the same problem as you admiring the beauty of some weeds. And how could any child not experience blowing those puffballs? Dandelion is a pretty flower to me, and your photos are amazing!
Aw, Florida Girl, I’m really not so judgmental as all that. I just wouldn’t want to marry a man who hated dandelions and criticized his mother’s lawn as if it were something really important in life. Maybe you know what I mean?
You’re not lazy at all! After seeing pics of your garden, there’s no way you qualify for that term.
Oh, and I forgot to add, the colonists did indeed bring dandelion seed over and plant them, as a food plant. There is even a listing that shows they brought many different cultivars for their gardens, obviously collecting good strains of seed the way I collect lettuce seeds today.
I could be wrong, but I think a lot of those that hold great disdain for the dandelion have lawns they are trying to keep pristine. I’ve given up on having a lawn, for a thousand reasons that no doubt I’ll post about someday. However, for me at least, the sight of the occasional dandelion doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it used to since giving up my lawn-lubbin’ ways. They are, as shown in your photographs, actually quite pretty little flowers, and as a child I used to love to pick them when they’d gone to seed, and blow all their little seeds across the garden (no doubt to my father’s disgust)
Curbstone Valley Farm´s last blog ..Oh Deer, Oh Deer
Yes, CV, I suspect you are right. It’s in fact that phenomenon, the “pristine” lawn, that fascinates and horrifies me in equal measure. What is it about our national character that decrees the monocrop of turf grass must be pure, undiluted, untouched by reality. It’s creepy — and yet almost eerily beautiful in its maniacal obsession with a kind of formal, geometrical, rigid *perfection.*
Thank goodness you gave up your “lawn-lubbin’ ways” so you could learn all about wildflowers and natives and educate me with your lovely posts and beautiful photos!
aloha,
i also love dandelions and enjoyed your history of this not so well desired plant/weed – i love to eat them, but don’t like them in my yard and i also enjoy blowing the seed heads and photographing their wispy blooms
noel´s last blog ..The Nuances of Hula
Glad you recognize their beauty and usefulness, too, Noel.
Dear Meredith, I love your images and what you wrote. I think dandelion is a wonderful plant which got strong and tough to survive, but people punish it for its toughness and desire to live. We used to braid a headwreaths from its flowers, and my Mom made remedy to treat our warts.
Tatyana@MySecretGarden´s last blog ..Are You Afraid Of Heights?
I like the way you look at it, Tatyana. Dandelions are definitely tough survivors. Now that you mention it, I remember making necklaces of the blossoms as a child. I bet your headwreaths were beautiful. And I have heard that the milky sap is a natural wart remover. What an amazing plant!
I’ve long thought that weeds are just plants that grow too easily. If dandelions were fussy, we’d baby and hybridize ‘em. I hear that dandelions are a very important food source for bees.
You are right about the dandelions and other weeds being important for bees, Lisa. I’m glad they’re not fussy, and resist so many attempts to kill.
I have a love/hate relationship with dandelions. I appreciate their beauty, love eating the greens, but only wish they would stay in one area! That’s all I ask! One of my favorite photos I took of Charlie involved her in a field of dandelions. They do have charm – I’ll give you that!
Talon´s last blog ..A chipmunk tale…
I can understand, Talon. Something that reseeds too freely in the garden, or takes the initial invitation to a parcel of ground and runs with it (thinking of mint now) can quickly frustrate the best-laid garden plans. At least you’ve given them a chance. And I’d love to see that shot of Charlie sometime. I bet it’s darling!
I love the pictures. I remember spending many moments as a child blowing those little seeds, but I did not know about all of it’s uses! Thank you–I learned something new
alisha´s last blog ..Can I tell you a secret?
You’re welcome, Alisha. The winged seeds seem just made for a child’s pleasure, don’t they?
I think dandeloins must be more successful in your part of the world than in mine Meredith! They are considered a weed by many here in Aus, but are not really invasive or something that people get overly concerned about. A couple of my herb books list them and their uses. I was watching a bee having a wonderful time on one next to my compost bin a couple of days ago and was sad that I didn’t have my camera in tow for a photo!
I love your stunning macro photos of them particularly the dandeloin ‘clock’ – which my daughter still loves to find!
Heidi´s last blog ..Rose Diary – Meet More Survivors and Stragglers
Wow, Heidi, now I’m imagining a place where dandelions couldn’t get a foothold. It makes me have even more respect for your lovely garden. Your conditions must be tough! Good to know that bees do love them the world over, though.
I don’t hate Dandelions. I even think they look quite cheerful and they are the first flower of Spring. In fact I admire their ability to pop up anywhere, even a crack in the sidewalk. My sidewalk is now lined with them. I like the color of them and also remember creating head wreaths with them as a child. But I do pull them out. Not that we have a pristine lawn either, no pesticides or herbicides here. But here, Dandelions get really huge and are just a bit too prolific. Maybe I should find a Dandelion salad lover to give them to.
Helen at Summer House´s last blog ..Inspiration, Pique Assiette Mosaics and A Quote by Picasso
Helen, you could definitely do that. You could also shred the petals of the flowers you pull and adorn your salads with them. Most people love the gourmet touch of flowers in their salad.
I can understand that it would be trying to have your whole lawn taken up by them. I am not unsympathetic. Did you know that an overlarge community of these weeds usually indicates poor soil quality, and in fact the plant itself improves on the poor soil in an area? If you were to test, your soil might be quite acidic. Healthy doses of compost and mulch may cure the problem rather than just removing the symptoms by repeated pulling every year. It is quite difficult to pull up a dandelion truly, as those tap roots can be up to 18 inches long — but improving your lawn’s fertility might be an even better solution for you going forward.
Dear Meredith, What absolutely splendid images. Now, please believe me, I have nothing per se against the dandelion, and I think its Botanical name a delight, it is just that, for me, I find that particular yellow far from sunny and appealing, but downright harsh. The dandelion clocks, on the other hand, are a delight, so ephemeral and ghostly in that moment before they ‘explode’ into the air.
I was much amused by your account of a dinner date and the dandelions in the lawn, and in particular that you were left with far more feeling for the mother than for the son. Such is life!
Edith Hope´s last blog ..Get Ahead – Wear a Hat
Edith, glad the story amused you. It was really too bad I couldn’t like the son better for the sake of his lovely mother.
Thank you for the compliments on the photos. I do understand what you mean about the harsh quality of the flowers. That is a matter of taste, I suppose, and I have always been rather fond of the bright colors, especially scarlet and orange, which many people find overbright and wearing on the eyes. It’s hard to find fault with the delightful clocks.
I will miss my dandelions as I have destroyed my lawn to make way for vegetables! I never gave them a thought until now.
The Idiot Gardener´s last blog ..All Light Now!
Oh, IG, even your comments make me giggle.
I used to love to blow at them when I was a child, but now I am such an seasonal allergy sufferer, that I can’t do that.
But I like weeds, too – mainly for their mystery.
Lynn´s last blog ..Popping out, half off and dear…
I know you appreciate the weeds, Lynn, even making a place for them in your container garden.
I had no idea you suffered from seasonal allergies. I have slight issues now, but nothing like when I was an adolescent (knock on wood), when it was so miserable the mere word “allergies” conjures up immediate sympathy for you and all other sufferers. Take care of yourself in the next few weeks, when the spring pollen descends like a sulfur-colored cloud.
Your photos are beautiful! I have been given many gifts of dandelions from our boys when they were younger. So, they have a special meaning to me. Enjoyed your well written post!
Amy/GoAway, I’m Gardening!´s last blog ..A Touch of White
Aw, Amy, I bet they will forever hold some lovely nostalgia for you. I can only imagine how precious those handpicked bouquets of love were.
Your post got me thinking…seriously. I remember as a child. the delight in finding a dandelion, just ready for me to blow the seeds away. Now, I am the one that pulls them out. I need to revert back to my childhood
Noelle/azplantlady´s last blog ..Eggs, Gardens, Cake & Chocolate….
I like the way you put that, Noelle. Sometimes just remembering our childhood delights can put us on a more balanced path. Glad you’ll think differently about the dandelions, just remembering your old joys.
I don’t understand hatred of the dandelion either. It’s a flower, for crying out loud. Goldfinches love them too.
I don’t pretend to understand many others’ attitudes towards plants and gardening (mostly lack thereof).
Sweet Bay´s last blog ..Out with the old, in with the new
I did not realize they were beloved by goldfinches, as well, Sweet Bay. Yet another reason to appreciate them.
I suspect that many of my readers are exceptions to the attitudes of ignorance you speak of. But I cannot blame those who have not developed opinions about gardening or Nature or their dependence upon the plants and the cycles of the Earth. Honestly, the usual opportunities for learning about these things were missing from the formative years of many of those of my own generation, and I suspect it is even rarer today to interact with the natural world.
But I’m hoping we are just at the farthest tip of the arc of a huge pendulum… and about to swing back toward sanity and awareness of our home. 
I have PLANTED two dandelions in my herb garden. Pretty and easier than trying to get lettuce between sun and snails.:-))
Diana, you rock!
Awww…sweet little Leo! I like dandelions to. Your photos are completely amazing! I find it incredible how the seeds “stick” to the “pin cushion” until just the right time, then fly away in the wind! Your photo of the bloom and those curly ends is unbelievable. You’ve captured the flower’s phases so well! And this plant is still highly used in Greek cuisine…dandelion greens are cooked with lemon and olive oil…YUM!
kimberly´s last blog ..Micro Climates and the Bugs are Buggin’ Me!!!
Leo is the best… although he just unnerved me minutes ago by attempting to use a ladder F. had left out to climb onto the roof. Mischievous kitty!
That amazes me, too, Kimberly, how they stick until exactly the right maturity point, and then await the next breeze. But then, it is no more mysterious than how a mother’s body knows to give birth at the right moment — in other words, a miraculous enigma beyond all knowing!
What an interesting post (and fantastic pictures) about the lowly dandelion. I’ve never thought much about them one way or another, except to love blowing the little seeds off into the four winds. I’ll be sure to treat the next one I see with respect!
Kathy´s last blog ..Take One Before Bed
Thank you, Kathy. I think blowing their seeds about is probably their favorite way for you to interact with them. Humans have done more for the spread of the dandelion than any other creature, I suspect.
What gorgeous photos. I’m kind of loving dandies this year too, because the woman from whom I bought my seed potatoes said to plant them when the dandelions bloom. They can’t come soon enough (she said wistfully, from just-waking-up Massachusetts).
Oh, that’s a wonderful little trick for knowing when to plant, Holly. I was supposed to put in my potatoes the last half of March, but I ran out of hours in the day, and then it got up into the 90s here last week, and that seemed all wrong as baby potatoes surely don’t like to sweat. We’re getting back into normal temps now, so I might plant tomorrow morning — and the dandelions are in bloom all around just now, so you’ve given me hope that my potatoes may just survive my tardiness.
I’m sure you’ll be seeing their sunny yellow faces soon!
I love dandelions now, though I remember my mom picking them out of the yard as weeds.
You know how you have ideas in your head of photos you want to take? A perfect dandelion (when it’s white and ready to fly) is one of mine. Someday. In the meantime, I will enjoy your photo.
elizabeth´s last blog ..signs of spring
Elizabeth, I exactly know what you mean! I wanted a dandelion shot so badly last fall, and kept putting it off because of deadline pressures, eventually thinking I’d waited too late when I saw no more… and then this perfect specimen sprang up in November, right outside the window my desk faces as I work. I took it as a sign to put away the work for a bit and get out there and shoot.
You probably have your pick of them right about now in the Pacific Northwest. I look forward to seeing your shot. I bet it’ll be a beauty!
I’ve always been a big fan of dandelions too, but then my blog is Daphne’s Dandelions, so that is no surprise. They always make me smile. I’m happy to have a neighbor that lets her grass grow naturally, so the whole bank by my garden turns spotted yellow in the spring. I just love it.I love to watch the bees on the flowers too. Not many other things are blooming quite as well in the early spring.
Daphne´s last blog ..Spring Planting
Your dedication to the dandelion was never in doubt, Daphne. Your neighbor’s yard sounds delightful, and I know you are looking forward to its cheery appearance any day now. Our landlord does not worry about the lawns here, either, but because of the shaded location we have a wilderness of clover and violets this time of year. And I’m definitely not complaining — wild dogtooth violets beat out plain grass every single time! It looks like our turf has been subjected to a purple watercolor wash.
I want to like the dandelion – it is pretty when it is yellow, but my neighbor’s whole yard was dandelion – not attractive!! And then MY lawn was becoming all dandelion – not making me happy.
I do like the fact that it is an herbal remedy. I collect herbs for my family’s medicinal needs – it’s cheap, time tested, and I have found that they work far better than industry meds
Sylvana´s last blog ..This Is No Joke
Oh, Sylvana, if you love herbal remedies, you might ask your neighbor to harvest her flowers this season… before they go to seed.
I can imagine it would be frustrating to not be able to control the influx of seed from someone else’s yard.
No … not ugly. Not ugly at all. – nuff said
philip´s last blog ..Delicate shades
Thanks, Pip!
I loved this post and put a link to it on my blog about dandelions today. Thanks for some great info, and for a real appreciation of the little dandelion!
Laurrie´s last blog ..Dandelion Beds and Hair Dryers
Oh, wow, thanks, Laurrie! That has to be one of the nicest shout-outs I ever received from a fellow blogger. You are too kind — and you make a very good case for the inevitability of dandelions.