Do you ever wish that, even if only for a moment, you could go airborne, fly above the fray, and feel free?
The dandelion is a symbol of that wish to break free, even if only momentarily.
I’m fascinated by the dandelion; such a temporal thing it is. Transient, yet tenacious, it grows, blooms, morphs, and flies away, above the fray, to plant seeds (and a new life) somewhere else.
Where did you come from, little dandelion? Where will you land next? What stories could you tell?
Dandelions make me feel like they have something to say:
Let me set an example for you! You can let go, and it will all still be ok. Fly, be free! Dust in the wind actually has meaning and consequence!
The dandelion, and nature in general, takes me into a mindful state; it’s a sort of ecotourism of the mind. So I wrote a haiku to honor how the dandelion makes me feel when I take time to study it, reflect, walk in its shoes (metaphorically) and absorb its message.
ecotourism: dandelion safari (nature therapy)
The star of this post, the mindful dandelion, currently resides in a little meadow near the top of Indian Mountain in Jefferson, Colorado. Its photo shoot was on Sunday; I wonder where its seeds have traveled by now?
Did you know?
In addition to its important role of being a muse for me 😊 and a tool for making a wish come true (when you blow on it) the dandelion is high in vitamins, minerals, antioxidants and soluble fiber. It has been used over the centuries in numerous cultures as a medicinal aid and in teas, and the greens can be eaten in a salad or sautéed. I’m not going to rush out and start picking them off the mountainside to consume while we’re here on vacation at Little House in the Rockies this week…but I’m wondering if that inherent goodness is part of the dandelion’s subliminal appeal.
© 2021, Glover Gardens
