Serendipity

The unbearable lightness of dandelions….

It seems almost incredible that it’s taken this long to get to Spring, but now it’s arrived in our garden it’s come on in a furious rush. The wisteria is framing our bedroom window with sleepy nodding blue, the honeysuckle has over-spilled the trellis-work and sent cascades of pink blooms pouring down towards the lawn, the birds are positively anti-social in the volume of their chorus at 5am.

In fact, Spring has sprung so resolutely that I took half-an-hour this lunchtime to sit in the garden, in the glorious sunshine, listening to the mellifluous tones of Radio 4 and enjoying a tomato salad. And I found myself surrounded by the most enchanting whirlpool of what can only be described as dancing fairies. Tiny little motes of what seemed, in the glancing light, to be feather-down, span lazily around the garden. It reminded me of my favourite bit of any visit to an aquarium – the moon jelly-fish tank – where mesmerizing creatures float glowingly up and down in the water.

But as I sat there, half-wittedly admiring the effect of all this nature, it slowly dawned on me that actually what I was witnessing was the plant-life equivalent of a massive invasion force, colonising my lawn. Because they weren’t fairies you see. Oh no. They were dandelion seeds. Thousands and thousands of dandelion seeds. Floating along on their little fluffy parachutes like a particularly insidious air attack. This is particularly galling because I spent at least three hours last weekend digging the blighters out of my flower beds. And now I will have to spend many more hours doing the same.

But more than anything – what I took away from this afternoon is that nature is a trickster. She puts on a glorious display of dancing fairies, hiding ruthless enemy agents behind their fluffy whiteness. She makes it warm, so that you only feel like sitting down and at the same time everything else takes off growing at lightning speed so you can’t keep up. Ultimately the only reaction possible to a garden full of the unbearable lightness of dandelions is to revel in the sheer cleverness and creativity of it all…..

….oh, and to make a mental note to buy another spray-can of Round-up.

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