I find it funny the odd conglomeration of things we wish on: eyelashes and candles and dandelions. Who decided that blowing on a whispy white weed would make your desires come true? Well, anyway, I rather like the idea. I like closing my eyes, making a wish and them opening them again to see all the little seeds float away like parachutes, ready to plant themselves and spring up a new flower.
My wish is different every time. Sometimes I dream big and wish for wars to end and for world peace. Other times I am selfish and wish for a good grade on a test or to find five dollars on the ground. I like wishing. Even if they don't come true, it's still fun.
It's fun finding dandelions in my front yard and plucking them out of their habitat. Twirling the stems in my fingers, huffing and puffing until the seeds begin to let go. My sister blew one yesterday and after several breaths she said, "I guess I'm going to have a lot of children." I hadn't heard this one before, but apparently you are going to have a kid for every time you blow until it is all gone. Okay then.
To many people, dandelions are just weeds, but to me they are a symbol of summer and of childlike whimsy. Maybe they remind me of days spent in tall green grass, picking flowers and sipping lemonade. Did that ever even happen? Sometimes I get my memories mixed up with photos and movies and books I've consumed and with fixed notions and stereotypes that somehow lodge themselves in my brain. Anyway, I rather like these wishing machines.
My friend pronounces them 'dandy-lions' which makes me think of giant lions with suits and ties on; I'm not altogether sure why. I just call them 'dan-de-lions' but I like her fanciful way of saying it. They're not just dandelions, they're dandy lions. What are they to you?