Words + Images

I had picked the two dandelions while walking home in the rain.  The seed heads were wet but still intact.  They looked like rain-soaked baby chicks, all spiky and glistening.  I remember my goal that day was to get the stems home and photograph them before they fell apart.  A piece of black slate formed the background.  I’ve yet to sort through the photos.  I was surprised to see the next day that the seed heads had not disintegrated but had in fact puffed up.

When I showed them to a small friend, who’s big into science these days, I started to describe the dandelion anatomy.  But when I tried to talk about the seeds and the “parachutes” that allow them to sail across the sky, my little friend became quite adamant.  “No, no, no,” she said. “These are fairies and the white, wispy parts are their wings.”  We stared at each other for a while and then I said, “Well, my dear, let’s go set some fairies free then.”  She cupped the dandelions in her hands and we went in search of an open window.