Doesn't this bring back memories? I'm sure everyone living in North America has at one point or another blew on a dandelion. If you haven't, I'd like to hear about it. The why? The how? The intricate details of your vacant childhood.
Sometimes, we make wishes before we puff up our cheeks. Other times we like to see how far the seeds fly. When you become a homeowner, with a yard, how far weed seeds will fly is no longer of interest to you. And you have to restrain yourself from telling the children to please not blow weed seeds all over your yard. I know this. I once was a child. I thought like a child. I acted like a child. Now, I'm an adult. I act like an adult. And though I have the impulse to tell children to not blow dandelion seeds, I'm proud to admit I've never said a word. I actually encourage them to do it because it's so much a part of childhood. And it's also really fun to catch the moment with the camera.
Often, on a photo shoot, I'll encourage the child to pick one and blow. Sometimes the little seeds glisten in the wind like this one.
Isn't that cute in an every-kid's-done-it-sort of way?
But, honestly, for the photos of Claire blowing the dandelion, I didn't coach her. I just happened to be standing close by with my camera. But it was pure innocent, childhood.
And so was this reaction . . .
Sometimes anticipated joys disappoint. Sometimes you think a things gonna move and it doesn't. Sometimes you're whimsically wandering through the woods of life, see something beautiful, claim it as your own and then Poof! Nothing. These are the lessons one can learn from a dandelion that didn't work.