I dream sometimes of the ghosts of dandelions.
Their blossoms do not go quietly into inevitable decay.
Not for them the fate of the cherry – pretty, ephemeral petals vanishing into the earth.
Instead, dandelions enjoy life only too well.
Their ghosts linger, hollow and frail, spending pieces of themselves on the breeze that they might see even more life, even more colour.
There is less mourning for the loss of their ferocious vitality because they are already planning their next rise, their next grand adventure.
If you pass them by, these small ghost pieces, carried by an indifferent wind-
Greet them as you would a fellow traveler-
The world laid out before their victorious death.
The Darling Buds are brought to you by Victorian flower meanings, a wanton disregard for photographic technique, and the letter N for Nostalgia.
I admire the pursuit of joy, even in the face of tremendous obstacles. For further adventures involving the pursuit of happiness, you can read my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, is also available here.