Photo by ndrwfgg.
It's spring on this half of the world. One proof, in addition to the warmer weather, is the explosion of color springing from the grass, in gardens, in the trees, and even in my coworkers' wardrobes. Purple, new green, white, yellow, pink, red, and every color in between and beyond.
My own backyard is its own happy little party. I haven't planted any flowers yet, but I am pleased to report a gorgeous-green backyard with yellow polka dots. My husband intends to rid the yard of those polka dots. He says, "I have to spray those dandelions and get rid of them. They're weeds."
Of course, I know dandelions are classified as weeds. I, myself, have participated in their extermination before. But this spring, after such a long, cold, and maddeningly white winter, the friendly yellowness of the dandelions warms my heart. When I pull out of the garage in the morning to head to work--still half asleep--those little yellow faces have a way of welcoming me to the day. "Come on, Heather, it's spring! Wake up and have a great day!" That's what they say at my house anyway.
So who are these weed-labeling people, anyway? How do they decide these sorts of things, and who pays them to make sure we all believe them? How can a plant that is useful for eating (salad greens) and drinking (wine) be categorized as a weed?
I, for one, intend to hide my husband's newly bought herbicide. At least for one more week.