Mighty Wildflowers

Blue squill reappears in our front yard and over the hill behind our house, in the thickets of wild raspberry canes — tiny flowers that sprinkle color in our landscape that is otherwise brown dirt and gray mountain.

In the rough patches of roadsides and rocky ditches, coltsfoot springs up. Along the brick school gymnasium, I discover blooming dandelions.

These tiny flowers, some no larger than my thumbnail, are mighty tough. There’s a lesson here, I know, as I crouch in that tangle of thorny vines, admiring a clump of starflowers. That lesson might be as simple as the determination of the world’s beauty. Who planted these flowers, I don’t know. But every spring I’m grateful for that gardener who lived here and who so loved these spring gems.

The first of a year’s abundance of dandelions

in this single kernel of bright yellow

dropped on our path by the sun, sensing

that we might need some marker to help us

find our way through life…

— Ted Kooser, “Dandelion”

8 thoughts on “Mighty Wildflowers

  1. Ha! As I was taking the clothes down last night, I spied our first ever clump of squill, probably germinated from seed dropped by a bird? It made me think of you, and how every year you write about the squill, and thinking how it’s something I can count on, just like the peepers. And here it is;). I’m sending the Kooser to my youngest daughter, it will be a good poem for her right now. Thanks for your writing!

    • These are such beautiful little blue flowers. I didn’t know what they were when I bought the house, but I am mighty grateful that the gardener who planted them knew. You should plant some, too!

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