It’s fully feeling like springtime now in the Midwest, and we’re thinking more about our outside spaces.
We’re watching our perennial plants grow again after a season of dormancy, and we’re deciding what to plant in our vegetable gardens. We’re arranging our decorative pots of annuals to adorn our porches, patios, and decks. We’re seeing and smelling trees budding and blooming, and grass is becoming greener and longer, seemingly by the hour. It’s the season of growth, now, and we yearn to surround ourselves with vibrant, beautiful, new life.
We get excited for the green things we plant and tend to. But what about the stuff that grows, wild, free, with no care or encouragement, and wherever it pleases, no matter what we had planned? I am talking, now, about weeds. Actually, for the purpose of this column, I am talking about dandelions—or rather what they represent to people.
To a person who prides themselves on a perfectly manicured lawn, with no crabgrass or bald spots, a dandelion is an unwelcome sight. And since dandelions show up in groups, whether on the sides of a garden plot, in the cracks of the concrete, or smack in the middle of a lawn, if you don’t want them there, diligence is required to remove them and keep them gone. Lots of folks really dislike dandelions.
There’s also another take on dandelions. Many people see them as food and refuge for pollinators, as beautiful golden flowers with which to make crowns and bouquets, as symbols of freedom and floating where the breeze goes, or as a completely powerful natural medicine that is edible and useful from root to flower. To these people, a dandelion is a precious natural resource, and the sight of them is welcome and valued.
Perspective is everything, and the dandelion is just one example. A non-venomous spider is a gross home invader to one person, but a welcome roommate with a job to minimize flies to another. To some, jazz music is rambling and boring and to others it is an adventure for the ears and spirit. RV’s can serve as camping vehicles and as dwellings, and are simultaneously symbols of true freedom to some and gas gobbling home bases to others.
My point in this is not to change anyone’s perspective, whether on weeds or bugs or anything else. I’m not so bold as to think this little column can do that. But, maybe reading this can help us remember, before we yuck someone else’s yum or judge their way of life, especially if it has no real effect on our own, that it’s just different ways of seeing the world. A nuisance weed to some is a plant medicine to others. One person’s pest is another person’s pleasure.
Sara Middleton is a freelance columnist and resident artist/owner of Studio Sol Art Outreach & Creative Space in Eagle Grove, Iowa. Email her at sara.studiosol@gmail.com or find Studio Sol on Facebook or Instagram.
