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Alma“Bring Gigi another yellow one, baby,” Lee-Anne says to Love, holding a bunch of freshly picked dandelions in her hand. She lies next to me on a large blanket.
Love smiles big and runs off into the plush grass. The bright green lawn, in desperate need of a mow, reaches past her ankles. She giggles as it tickles her skin in search of her favorite flower.
I make sure the front yard’s landscaping is attended to with regularity, but the backyard is left a little wild so the flowers can grow. Dandelions have always been one of my favorites. I know they’re technically weeds, but I think they’re too special to be classified as such. To me, they’re strong and resilient. In their short life, they bloom a happy yellow and then morph into a fluffy white wishing wand. I spent many hours throu
