CLOSER LOOK
One sticky hot early summer afternoon a few years ago, a friend and I filled three plastic grocery bags with fuzzy dandelion heads growing on the outskirts of a nearby cemetery. At the end of the day, our hands were stained yellow and our backs ached. Months later, we happily sipped the results of our labors: sickeningly sweet, homemade dandelion wine. With warm days come fields full of this humble, opportunistic weed, and a timely reminder that we need to make the most of what we've got.
"A weed is but an unloved flower."
-- Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Other Dandy Names