A Weed is a Weed is a Weed

       Does "appreciating nature" mean that I have to appreciate everything that's outside? Does it mean I have to do my best to enjoy the world in its natural state? 

       If so, I fear I am failing at my quest. There is a patch of dandelions on a piece of property across the street that has been really getting on my nerves.

       The patch, which is a lawn underneath all the dandelions, is about 8 feet wide and perhaps 60 feet long. It lies between the street and the sidewalk, beside a building used as a private daycare and kindergarten. 

       My condo complex takes care of the patch of grass between the street and sidewalk in front on our building. We have even planted rose bushes and other flowers there. Other neighbors and businesses similarly take care of their little patches -- planting grass or putting in rocky zero-scape landscaping. But no one is taking care of the rather large patch across the street.

       I tried to enjoy the area when it was filled with little yellow dandelions. "How pretty and yellow they are," I thought -- for the first day or two. But then, as always happens with dandelions, the yellow flowered parts turned into clouds of white seeds to be caught and carried by the breeze.  And the stems turned long and gangly.  

       I used to walk Olympia over this section of former lawn, but with the sturdy stems growing higher and banging into my legs -- like grasshoppers almost -- I started to stick to the sidewalk.  

       But Olympia still insists on walking through the weeds, sending the seeds afloat, or getting them caught in her fur. I sneeze repeatedly any time we were near the area. 

       Still, I have tried to put up with it -- although I have started to complain a bit to my friends.

       One friend pointed out that since I enjoy cooking, perhaps  I might find a use for dandelion greens in my recipes. She suggested that perhaps I could start though by farming the greens on her lawn. Another friend pointed out that keeping a pretty lawn is a tremendous waste of resources and harmful to the environment -- water is wasted keeping it alive, pesticides are used to kill weeds, gasoline is used to run lawnmowers. And truly, I agree with her.

       But in the meantime, the dandelions were getting taller and taller and more and more seedy.

       For a couple of days, I thought the dandelions might be dissipating a bit.  It seemed when I walked Olympia in the evening, that only stems were left on most of the weeds. But after two hopeful nights, I noted that the dandelions were always back in the morning. That's when I realized that dandelions -- even when they have gone to seed -- close at night and re-open in the morning. 

       Perhaps I should have found that magical or something.  But I didn't.

       Then I started to hope that the weeds would be mowed over the Memorial Day weekend, while I was away at a friend's wedding in Tulsa. Perhaps, with the extra day off, the owners of the kindergarten would finally find the time to to take care of the problem.  

       But when I came back yesterday, the dandelions were still there.

       I remembered a quote from Emerson -- something about a weed being a plant whose virtues had not yet been discovered. I remembered too that as a child, I used to make wishes on dandelions, blowing the seeds off the stem as I wished. And I tried again to appreciate the seedy growth.

       But then I remembered good old Gertrude Stein and her "rose is a rose is a rose".  

       So today, I turned into a nature-hating snitch.

       I called the city hotline one can use to report such non-urgent matters as unkempt properties, overgrown vegetation or dead animal bodies.  The person at the other end carefully noted details of the location. She asked me if the weeds were over six inches in height, and I snarled that they were closer to 1 foot high at this point. She said an inspector would be out by the end of the day tomorrow -- at the latest. And she thanked me.

       So formerly pretty yellow dandelions, enjoy your last days in the sun. Seeds, spread as far as you can today and tomorrow.  

       Your day of judgment is near.  

       I have spoken.