Lion's tooth

Spring is awesome! Although I am far from an arborist or horticulturist, I love the progression of “flowering everything” that emerges in the expanding daylight hours. Starting from the time that the first crocus peeks through the snow in the warmth of eastern exposures, the unfolding choreography is fantastic.
I may not get the timing right but the progression of beautiful trees and plants is amazing: Bluettes, Forsythia, Apple blossoms, Cherry blossoms, Magnolias, Azaleas, Daffodils, Tulips, Flowering crab apples, Hyacinths, Wisteria, and the list goes on and on. My wife and I seldom drive anywhere without a “look at that beautiful…” every half mile or so.
This week it is beauty and fragrances from violet and white lilacs with dancing bumble bees and also bold yellow Dandelions. Wait a minute. Dandelions? How did they get into this lovely picture? Suddenly I am brought back from the idyllic to a seemingly harsh reality. I don’t really like Dandelions and have spent a small fortune to not see them pop up like a carnival popup mole game. In fact, it’s an unstated subtle pride to have no dandelions to spoil my dream of a carpet of delicate lush green grass.
Oh, Dandelions used to be OK before I learned to not be associated with them. Over time, I progressed to prefer to be surrounded by pure classy mature Kentucky blue grass or at least a good strain of fescue. Oh, it’s not that we don’t go way back. I just outgrew the humble Dandelions and they have no place on my property.
I do have a lot of memories, though. I remember that the Dandelions were the ones hearty enough to survive the grubs and the droughts when my delicate lawn turned an embarrassingly dead brown. In fact, when I mowed lawns with a push mower in my youth (for an icy 16 ounce RC Cola), a lawn meant Buckhorns and Dandelions and little of what I term grass. Oh those were the days! I learned to fold a Buckhorn weed stem over to “shoot” the tip and to use the stain of the Dandelion for adornment before there were temporary tattoos. The milky sap of the stems (which removes warts) and especially the white tiny parachutes of the seed heads proved fascinating diversions. The seeds are unique because they don’t require cross pollenization and can be dispersed as soon as the day after the bloom appears. I loved to do the dispersing.
Spring brought meals of Dandelions over boiled potatoes with a dressing similar to what is now marketed as “hot bacon dressing.” Further back in my heritage, I understand there was some Dandelion wine. (Medicinal, no doubt) In fact, Dandelions were first imported from Europe to the Midwest to provide food for imported honeybees in early spring. Thus the name Dent-de-lion which means lion’s tooth in Old French. The ten inch intertwined edible tap root regenerates quickly from any pieces left behind by modern Dandelion digging tools. In fact, it multiplies. That beige root is higher in beta-carotene, iron and calcium than almost any other plant. This doesn’t include the fact that it is one of the safest but most potent home herbal remedies for everything from hepatitis to indigestion to skin diseases and even a treatment for mature-onset diabetes.
Come to think of it; what is the value of delicate Kentucky blue grass other than, as some in our region would say, “Just for pretty.” And what about my obsession with eliminating that deep rooted survivor that I feel threatens me and my property? Makes me wonder just what my rationale and motives are for other choices and judgments beyond my lawn. Perhaps that’s why I wasn’t given responsibility for wheat and tares?