Who has not clutched a “bouquet” of these sunny-looking “wildflowers” in a chubby fist, then presented them to Mom when you were a kid? I think we’ve all done that at some point. For me, it was dandelions in Springtime and buttercups later in the Summer.
As I’ve mentioned in the past, when I was two years old, my parents and I moved from an apartment in Toronto to Sandmere Place, a cul-de-sac in a new subdivision in Oakville, Ontario. The area around was still undeveloped and at the end of our street, there was a huge meadow where neighborhood children would play. There was a creek where we’d scoop up tadpoles which became pets until they grew legs, then they were put back into the creek again. We frolicked like young colts, thriving in nature, as we flew kites, played tag, sipped sweet clover blossom nectar and picked wildflowers. To us, dandelions, buttercups and even Queen Anne’s Lace were flowers, not weeds. My mom was ready to accommodate the “bouquet” with a wide, Red Rose sweet pickle jar, or a tall, skinny apple butter jar.
Every year when dandelions dot the lawns and Park grounds, I have fond memories of presenting a dandelion gift to Mom all those decades ago.
We’re having a week of gray, gloomy and rainy weather again, although this morning was an unexpected treat as it was sunny when I headed out. The wind has knocked the petals off many of the magnolias and flowering trees, and the pounding rain has left the daffodils and tulips less than perky. I sure am glad I sauntered out the door without a care in the world last Saturday and Sunday. The dust and disorderliness can wait … the older I am, the more I understand the phrase “Carpe Diem” or seize the day.
These are a few dandelion and fuzzy friends photos from Sunday. Looking at them reminds me that sunny days do exist in Michigan amidst all these soggy Spring days … sigh.