The dandelions were flying like snow today.
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Is it the dandelion season now? I honestly don’t know when exactly they grow. Just sometime in the spring. I remember when I was younger that we used to pluck them out from the garden, because if they grew, the roses in the garden wouldn’t. It was my dad who loved gardening, and until he passed, I questioned if it really was so. Dandelions were just another flower to me, not really a weed. Not something that should be excluded from the flowers in the garden. Maybe not as flashy or beautiful as other flowers when considering the flower beauty standard or whatever, but they represented something much more quiet and resilient. Maybe too resilient for a flower. They could grow anywhere. Maybe this isn’t true, but almost anywhere that I could’ve thought of. Even between the cracks in the asphalt, I would find them. Just strongly growing. Someone once wrote that they represented both the sun and the moon. Bright when in bloom, soft when they leave. When the fluffy seeds were out, you just blow them with all your might. Running after them to see how far they’ll go. Usually, they wouldn’t make it that far...
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It’s so strange to see them all in the air.
If I never picked them up and blown them, would the wind have taken them this far? It was like snow, but also nothing like it. Snow falls, they were flying. I kind of got the urge to run after them... but they were so many in the air... I wondered, how far they’d make it. Maybe across the city? Maybe to the other side of something. That is always poetical.
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The roses in the garden have stopped growing. Maybe because of the dandelions, or maybe because I couldn’t carry on the gardening job. But the seeds aren’t all that bad either. 11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpStTV6k7mV
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It’s the start of a new life, after all.
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