Dandelions are a much maligned flower.  The problem with dandelions is that the world prefers homogeneity.  People don’t appreciate anyone who tries to be different, and they don’t appreciate their lawns being anything but grass.

The fact of the matter is that dandelions are beautiful flowers.  Ask any child.  Children don’t have prejudices, and they recognize beauty when they see it.  Every woman, and most men, have been presented with bouquets of dandelions by the children in their lives.

Put aside your prejudices and really look at a dandelion.  It’s gorgeous!  It blooms plentifully.  It blooms early, and it blooms late.  It’s the first flower in the spring that the excited child brings to its mother.  It’s the last flower you can find in the fall if you go looking for it.  It requires no care.

Dandelions are edible.  Cows eat around some weeds, and leave them; but they clean up all the grass, clover, and dandelions they can find.  I recently released a cow from her winter pen into a green field.  She bypassed the new grass, and went straight for a clump of dandelions to take her first bite of something besides hay.  People won’t eat grass and clover, but dandelion leaves in salads or served up as greens are every bit as tasty to the human palette as spinach.

My wife says, “The trouble with dandelions is that they try to take over.”

I don’t think so.  They’re quite tolerant of other species.  It’s the homogeneity thing again.  My wife wants a lawn that’s all bluegrass.  She wants a monoculture.  Some weeds such as whitetop and Scotch thistles work to create monocultures, but dandelions don’t.  They’re content to live side by side with everyone else.  They don’t emit toxins.  They don’t try to smother their neighbors.  They don’t hog the light.

A weed is defined as “a plant out of place.”  By that definition a dandelion is a weed in my wife’s lawn.  But a weed can also be defined as “a plant whose usefulness hasn’t yet been discovered.”  By that definition, as already pointed out, dandelions are anything but weeds.

In fact, during the last world war, a search was made throughout the plant world for a suitable substitute for the rubber tree.  It was found in the Russian dandelion, and rubber was made from the milky sap that comes from the picked stem.  It’s a natural latex, and could be used in the medical industry because there are no allergic reactions to it.  Someday we may see whole fields devoted to dandelions.  Wouldn’t that be a pretty sight?

One of my heroes, George Washington Carver, devoted a major portion of his life to developing new uses for peanuts.  He did that to help his region; and to give southern farmers new markets, stronger markets, and better prices for a crop that they were good at growing.  He developed over 300 products ranging from ink to peanut butter that could be made from peanuts.

Someone needs to do that with dandelions.  It’s a species that would yield results—probably amazing results.  What Luther Burbank did with the potato, some astute plant breeder might someday do with the dandelion.  He’ll develop a rainbow of hues in the flowers.  He’ll turn dandelion roots into table fare as common as carrots.  (Several hundred years ago it was unheard of to serve up carrots.)  He’ll breed varieties whose leaves will compete for space in the vegetable section of the supermarket with lettuce and spinach.

There are medicinal and therapeutic qualities in dandelions that haven’t even been guessed at.

I’m not smart enough to sort these things out; but if I was an entrepreneur, I’d hire someone who was.  I think there’s potential here.

Take another look at your human and plant neighbors.  There’s potential in all of them.  There’s a need for all of them.  Some just need help in discovering and unlocking that potential.  Quit worrying about homogeneity.  Be grateful that everyone isn’t like you.  It would be a dull world if we were all daisies without dandelions.  It would be an impossible world if we were all doctors and dentists without some people willing to be ditch diggers.  I can dig the ditch to install your lawn watering system, but you wouldn’t want me drilling on your teeth.

You need me, and I need you.

I love irises and tulips, but I can also appreciate dandelions.