Dandy Lions (now with an update!!!)

When I was at Cedarville, Dr. Dixon (the school's president) was known for his hatred of dandelions. The grounds crew kept the grass and landscaping in pristine condition, and we were told time and again that we were not to walk on the lawns. Grass was for seeing (and mowing, apparently), but not for walking on. There was only one condition under which we were allowed to walk across the lawn, and that was if we saw a dandelion and walked out to remove it. Every spring Dr. Dixon preached a mock sermon about the evils of dandelions and exhorted us all to go about the good work of dandelion removal.

I've always maintained sort of an open mind to the notion of weeds. Plants are plants, and weeds are simply plants that we'd rather not have growing where they currently are. One man's weed is another man's hosta, in other words. So I never really bought in to the anti-dandelion fervor of Cedarville. After all, how can you dislike the first sunny sign of yellow in spring?

I stand (metaphorically, of course) before you a changed man. And I think Dr. Dixon might be proud. I just spent half of the morning with a weeding tool prying up dandelion clumps from my back yard. It goes without saying that the only reason I can do this is because I have a postage-stamp sized yard, and it's relatively easy to get them all. I think I pulled about a quarter (or maybe a fifth) of the taraxacum plants from my back yard, and I'll keep weeding them out as the spring goes on. One thing I'll say about dandelions is that they're easy to spot as soon as those blossoms open.

So what led to this change of heart, you ask? Well, it started about the time I noticed (last spring) that one half of my entire back yard was nothing but dandelions. These things were running rampant. And they were starting to crowd out the good grass already growing on the other half of my yard. I'm all for the occasional yellow blossom here and there, but they were basically taking over. So I've decided to take decisive action—first by pulling up as many as I can, and then by fertilizing and laying down a weed killer. I don't have any illusions—I know this is a multi-year project in the works. But you've got to start sometime.

It's occurred to me more than once that my attempts to beat back the dandelions sound an awfully lot like Dad's tirades against the wicked oaks. I guess I'm acknowledging here that some things change as you get older, and sometimes the sight of an old man tilting at windmills looks a little different when you're tilting at windmills of your own.

Update:

I suppose this is the season for writing and thinking about plants and growing and dandelions, so I shouldn't be surprised that one of the columnists at the NYTimes is writing about his own futile efforts to maintain the perfect lawn. My favorite line: "my eco-friendly ethos dovetails suspiciously with my laziness." Here's the full article, which is pretty interesting.