A Dandelion is a Rose: Isn’t that how the saying goes?
I wouldn’t be surprised if the city flower (are there such things?) of Telluride, Colorado, elevation 8,750 feet, is the Dandelion. In the spring there are one or two gazillion of them in the meadows, along creeks, in town, over hill and dale painting patches, nay, fields of sunshine alongside the budding Aspen trees. An explosion of color in the high, rough and tumble Rocky Mountains.
Growing up in the Willamette Valley of Oregon, we called these flowers weeds. Yet what can’t be denied is their inherent beauty which, as this picture shows, is considerable. No doubt the weed designation comes from their simple abundance. They are everywhere, wanted or not, usually the latter. Strange that by shoving them into that category we deny their beauty. Some would say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, while another would shout that there’s beauty all around! In church we sing a song that goes; ‘There is beauty all around, when there’s love at home.’ Maybe that’s the answer: We love what is beautiful, and it’s all a matter of perspective.
Three years ago I entertained my four year “young” grandson Liam in Telluride by picking handfuls of dandelion blossoms, sans stems, and launching them one after the other in a tiny creek that flows briskly through a downtown park, creating a glorious yellow chain. If placed carefully in the water blossom-up, they will float facing the sky looking gayly out-of-place as they dance on the water. They would follow each other like floats in a parade, then some would stop to rest in eddies of the creek, forming a bright yellow oasis that contrasted with the gray stones creekside causing me to reflect once again on their beauty…and wish I had my camera.
The “weed” in the photo posed for it’s portrait as it poked out of an ornamental pine in a rock garden in Friday Harbor, causing my artist’s eye to tear-up and proclaim photographically the beauty of so common a blossom.