Even as we worked our way across the flower garden, weeding fork in my hand, tossing dandelions onto the drive for collection I feel deep reverence for this beautiful weed. Dandelions are ubiquitous harbingers of summer, wildly nutritious, an early source of nectar for pollinators with sun-colored popping superpowers.
“Dandelion” means “lion’s tooth,” perhaps named for its jagged leaves or its deep taproot that can grow up to 3 feet long. Dandelions can regenerate from just a small root piece, one of its secrets to survival. My young companion picks up a billowy seeded tuft saying, “I wish there were not so many dandelions,” and then blows those feathery parachutes into the spring breeze. Smirking, I give him a look. “Oh, it tricked me!” he replies, “I could not resist.” Another secret of its survival is being irresistible to wish makers.
Every year I remind myself to admire the dandelion’s persistent crack-filling, blooming fierceness. Its tenacity for renewal should not be taken for granted. A dandelion does not know if it is a weed or a blessing, it just keeps renewing, cycling through its version of that old wisdom about what makes a good life.
Something to do, something to love, something to look forward to.
Dandelion embodies this by growing anywhere it can, loving its offspring’s wonderous beauty and looking forward to blooming again and again.
May each yellow burst remind us to invest and believe in new beginnings, no matter how unlikely or tenuous, for that is how our hopes and dreams are made real.
Let our wish-making be irresistible.
Blessings,
Rev. Kimberlee
Rev. Kimberlee Tomczak Carlson, Minister of Religious Education