I remember some days back in elementary school where we would get off the school bus and sit down in the deep spring green grass and pull up clover to make flower crowns and rub dandelions all over our faces like little-girl makeup. I'm sure we looked putrid, with our cheeks and foreheads and eyelids all swiped with an unnaturally brilliant yellow, but we were convinced it made us beautiful. And then a few days later, when the dandelions had changed from a bright yellow to a wispy, cottony white, we'd pluck what was left from the lawn and blow with all of our might...scattering the plumes, which we didn't understand at the time were actually seeds, all over the yard, much to the chagrin of our parents who had spent good money to remove the weeds in the first place.
I like to think of this as an ode to those carefree days.
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