Dandelion Garden

another weed story

By Dana Sear
Published: May 07, 2014 01:39 AM GMT / 
Updated: May 07, 2014 01:39 AM GMT

When we moved into our maintenance free town home before we bought our home, I was quite excited about the shoveled sidewalks, nicely manicured lawns, trimmed trees all without any effort on my part. I enjoy gardening. I just don't have enough time to produce a garden worthy of anyone's appreciation.

One Autumn day, right on the corner where the soil meets the porch, a dandelion had bloomed. I know it's just a weed. I know that people with lovely yards do not see any intrinsic value in them. But when I saw it, I had to get a photo. It was the brightest yellow, all the more dramatic against the dark brown earth beneath it. It was leaning slightly toward me as if it wanted to be noticed, not fearing destruction, but rather hoping for acceptance.

When I entered the house, I went about my normal routine of settling in and decided to grab the camera. Thinking I would just take a quick shot or two, in case what I saw in person would translate through the lens. I ended up spending quite a bit of time with that dandelion. Shooting from different angles, up close, far away, in color and black and white. We got to be good friends, that dandelion and I. I thought about how we sometimes miss the most marvelous things because we don't take the time to observe them properly. I thought about how I'd like to get some shots of it once it had turned to seed and then put the photos side by side. There is something lovely and comforting in the cycle of life, particularly when we look closely.

I got some lovely shots of my dandelion and I was quite excited when I ran back into the house to show my split apart my "garden photos". He enthusiastically agreed that it was indeed a magnificent garden. :-)

The next day, however, when I got home from work, it was dark but I noticed right away. My garden had been pillaged. My dandelion was gone. Apparently, our maintenance crew was prompt. While I appreciated the job they did immensely, and our community was always lovely, I miss my little dandelion garden.

That others don't appreciate how lovely and delicate they are is not a surprise to me. That others see them as a blight on an otherwise immaculate lawn, is understandable. But what other dandelions do we miss because we fail to look closely? Are there people, things, circumstances that, upon closer examination, will reveal themselves to be more than they appear? And, furthermore, are they different because we see them differently? Or are they as they have always been and we are what has changed?

I miss my dandelion garden.

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