When I came to this house on my walk today, I stopped in my tracks and grinned. This is exactly the kind of yard I wanted when I was growing up, much to my parents' chagrin. Forget all those fancy turfbuilders! Who needs Round-up? This long-necked gaggle of flowers is reaching for the stars is much, much better than ordinary grass. I would stand next to my mother as she weeded, indignant, and protest, "But they're not weeds. They're wildflowers." It's all a matter of perspective, right? And as it was, after all, my mom who taught me to look for the best in any situation and keep my petals turned toward the sun, I guess the fluffball doesn't fall too far from the dandelion.
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