Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: dandelion

  • Waiting on the Winds of Change

    Waiting on the Winds of Change

    35mm photo of a puffy dandelion seed head set atop grass.
    Waiting on the Winds of Change — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/8000

    To weed, or not to weed, that is the question. Whether ’tis nobler in the lawn to suffer the blades and clippers of outrageous trimming…

    OK, let’s bring it back. I am no Shakespeare (duh) and this sure is no Hamlet. But I would like to wax about on dandelions, perspective, and how it all changes. As a child, like many children I suspect, I partook of the cult of dandelion. I’d run about my grandparent’s lawn collecting the golden flower tops with aplomb. On my best day I may have even slapped a small bouquet together for eager delivery to Mom. On my worst day I’d roam the lawn with friends, pluck a dandelion or 12, and intone, “momma had a baby and its head popped off.” Yeah, the indignations of youth.

    Of greater mystery, however, were dandelions in their gray puff ball evolution. Like the one I photographed above. These airy beauties offered the greatest fuel for play and imagination—and lacked an evil jingle. Countless hours spent holding up the cloud like seed heads into the wind watching the air carry them away. Little men holding umbrella parachutes they’d travel in unpredictable air currents toward parts unknown. The charms were boundless. When the air was still it was mouth powered air travel filling in for the wind’s absence. This was the first lesson in the power of breath.

    Fast forward to adulthood and like all things once wondrous the cynical world soul crushed joy into avarice. In this case the greed for a perfect lawn. There is no place for dandelions in a perfect lawn, you see. And thus my childhood dandelion friends found bottomed out status as weeds. Weeds! Unwanted growing things to excise with fascist impunity. This world view held sway for years, until I learned a thing or two. On the one hand what is a perfect lawn and who needs it anyway? And on the other hand, our pollinator bee friends are fond of the dandelion. And bees need our help. And so, in my world, dandelions have regained proper status in the land of growing things. Oh, and they photograph and taste great, too.

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  • Just Dandy

    Just Dandy

    Low key shallow depth of field photograph of a lone dandelion seed head amid grass
    Just Dandy — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5000

    Dandelions are a mixed bag. As young child roaming free in East Brunswick they filled my senses with wonder. My friends and I would blow on the seed heads until we were gasping for air; when the seed heads were barren and useless like popped bubble wrap we’d move on to their yellow-headed counterparts. Here we became more savage, plucking them from the earth and discarding the yellow crowns with a pop of our thumbs. This was not without ritual either as we’d chant, “momma had a baby and its head popped off.” Problematic, I know. I’d like to think I’ve grown from such barbarous beginnings.

    In my “adult” years my mistreatment of dandelions has become somewhat more conventional. Now I just deal with them chemically so as to keep my lawn relatively weed free. Of course, the occasional seed head still serves as a dignified photo subject.

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