Dandelion Dreams

Do dandelions mourn their silvered friends

who have flown away on the wind?

Do they know they'll be together again?

It will all begin again.

White Lion

Summer's end.

Golden lions grow white with age--

They will wave their offspring away

And wither to a roarless death

Knowing some spring day

The lions will thrive again.

Herding Lions

Now that the end of summer is approaching, I appreciate this picture more than ever. This was taken in early summer by my friend Chad, who is a wonderful photographer.

I love dandelions. They're such an underdog, and so hated by millions who love their lawns nothing but green. Yet how many "weeds" are there that you can make wine from and a lovely green saute? At least I know Ray Bradbury understands-- here is an excerpt from one of my favorite books, Dandelion Wine:

The boys bent, smiling. They picked the golden flowers.
The flowers that flooded the world, dripped off lawns onto brick streets, tapped
softly at crystal cellar windows and agitated themselves so that on all sides
lay the dazzle and glitter of molten sun.

"Every year," said Grandfather. "They run amuck; I let them.
Pride of lions in the yard. Stare, and they burn a hold in your
retina. A common flower, a weed that no one sees, yes. But for us, a
noble thing, the dandelion."