A Dandelion Gone To Seed
One of my favorite times was when the dandelions on our lawn went to seed and became all white and puffy. At that point, I could pick them and blow the white stuff all over the place – but not in the house. (I might add here that I am easily amused.)
Those gone-to-seed dandelions are so artistic, if you look at them closely and spend more than just a few seconds glancing at what’s left of the flower. Look all around them; see how the little branches spread out, how puffy it is, almost like a cat’s fur.
Then imagine you could keep it this way forever.
Someone did. Fellow named Rolfe found a way to capture one of these most fragile of plants and keep it in a small block of Lucite. I have had one for nearly forty years now and it amazes me still. In this square, 2 ¼” on each side, are six views of the little white puff we used to blow clean every summer.
It came from a gift shop in Rockport, Mass. The place had an odd assortment of objects, unlike what you would see in the usual tourist store. “Sophia’s Shop” was named, I think, after the ladies’ mother. When my parents saw me looking at the dandelion with more than passing interest, they gave it to me as a present. It has always been on display in my various rooms.
We can trace our life’s path by looking at the t-shirts in our drawer and the coffee mugs in the pantry. But the enigma of this fragile, puffy little flower in Lucite is endless.
Those gone-to-seed dandelions are so artistic, if you look at them closely and spend more than just a few seconds glancing at what’s left of the flower. Look all around them; see how the little branches spread out, how puffy it is, almost like a cat’s fur.
Then imagine you could keep it this way forever.
Someone did. Fellow named Rolfe found a way to capture one of these most fragile of plants and keep it in a small block of Lucite. I have had one for nearly forty years now and it amazes me still. In this square, 2 ¼” on each side, are six views of the little white puff we used to blow clean every summer.
It came from a gift shop in Rockport, Mass. The place had an odd assortment of objects, unlike what you would see in the usual tourist store. “Sophia’s Shop” was named, I think, after the ladies’ mother. When my parents saw me looking at the dandelion with more than passing interest, they gave it to me as a present. It has always been on display in my various rooms.
We can trace our life’s path by looking at the t-shirts in our drawer and the coffee mugs in the pantry. But the enigma of this fragile, puffy little flower in Lucite is endless.
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