I was driving with my husband the other day. We had pulled up to a stop light, and i was peering around at the nearby yards and gardens as i usually do, looking for new favorite plants, admiring shrubbery, and re-designing in my mind. I do this a lot and he often joins me in my garden admiring.
I was just about to direct his attention to a magnificent arbor, covered in deep purple wisteria when he said to me, “You know Lacey, I really like dandelions.” Now, to a landscape designer this confession is blasphemy. A gazed at him in shock, and asked how on earth this could be true. After all, this was the horrible little weed that plagued beautiful green lawns and beds filled with more worthy blossoms. He answered, telling me that they were flowers, pretty yellow flowers. Marcus explained that he had just never considered them a weed. I tried to shake these comments off, and convince myself that I could still be a landscape designer, even if my husband was a weed lover. Just as long as no one else found out.
But I couldn’t forget what he said, and as I walked past the dandelions I noticed the vibrant blossoms and deep green foliage. But it wasn’t until a train ride in the German countryside between Augsburg and Fussen that I too realized the beauty of dandelions. Rolling hills of yellow as far as the eye could see flew past us as we sped along the tracks. The color was so massed individual flowers weren’t distinguishable, and initially I didn’t think they were dandelions at all. When the train stopped in Fussen, I left the tiny station and wandered over to an old lodge pole fence to find the source of the gorgeous yellow color. Dandelions. I had to smile as I remembered the conversation that Marcus and I had a few days before leaving for Europe. I guess dandelions are flowers, and not just weeds, after all.