If dandelions could talk, here’s what I think they might say:
"Bloom where you’re planted, sink your roots deep. Smile in the sun, soak up the rain, and let the wind take you to new places."
Dandelions are an early
spring food for bees. They are often the first flower a young child picks for
his mother and they provide a sweet moment for a mother to teach her child to
make a wish and blow away the seeds. They speckle landscapes with lemon-colored
glory.
Common, and often disliked by
those in favor of perfect lawns, we trample over them with hardly a thought. All
this crossed my mind as I stood in this field of dandelions, most having gone
to seed.
I had an hour to myself at a
retreat at a beautiful family farm on this day of unexpected sunshine and
warmth. I was looking for a moment of stillness.
I’d watched two swans,
visited the alpacas,
chatted with the chickens,
tried to coax a kitty closer...
...but I wanted to settle into peace and quiet.
I spread my sweater on the
grass and plopped down on my belly so that the dandelions were at eye level. I
felt drawn back to childhood when lying on the grass doing nothing was not
considered a waste of time.
I looked at the dandelions,
really looked, really SAW them, for perhaps the first time in my life. They
were in all stages from blooming to dispensing seed. And in them, I saw God’s
magnificent care and perfect plan carried out in this lowliest of weeds.
The yellow flowers were low,
hugging the ground—perfect for bees, which could forage for pollen beneath the
wind.
As the yellow flowers aged and folded up to begin their job of producing seed, the stems of the dandelion began to grow taller.
By the time the seed head was in full “lollypop” mode, the stems reached well above the ground. It was there that the puffs of wind, even the gentlest breeze, could reach them and lift the seeds, each on the lightest bit of fluff, to float to new spots and begin plants of their own.
Had they not grown tall the wind would not have dispensed the seed far enough from the mother plants, creating competition for space in the soil.
I'm sure this is in science books somewhere, or easily Googled, but how nice to just discover it on my own because I took time to be still...
Some lessons I learned
from this small observation:
- God cares and provides for all creation to ensure continued and abundant life in future generations.
- Each stage of life, from birth to death, has purpose and value. Never assume you have less value in old age than in youth.
- Also, if you're over 60 and you've plopped down on your belly, getting back up on your feet won't be as easy as it was in childhood!
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