I am planning to sit by a dandelion.
Not the yellow kind, although I certainly have nothing against those weedish flowers, and it’s a fact that a summer meadow flared golden with their mass is a splendid sight. But it’s not one of those dandelions with which I plan an engagement; it’s an aged one–one gone to seed.
You know the style, I’m sure. An ethereal orb, a wisp of fairy, a plaything, a seed; a nod to nature, a whisper to eternal plan.
I’m going to sit with one. I decided this morning.
Returning from Crestline to Lake Havasu, Jerry and I take the “backway,” choosing to travel a narrow two-lane road that is posted to warn of extreme switchbacks and quick elevation changes. It’s a magnificent drive that winds through the San Bernardino Forest past Lake Silverwood before reaching the 15 freeway. When we’ve had adequate rain, small waterfalls flash and creeks and rivulets run paths down the mountain side.
It was here I saw the dandelion beside which I plan to sit. I glimpsed him tall with his fellows in a particular slant of light, and knew right then I wanted to sit with that dandelion.
With a small chair and my camera I will go again to that spot. I may read and write a snip, but my first energy will be that of sitting by the dandelion. With my Nikon lens I will record the light as it plays over the ringlets of that dandelion, as its mood shows with a breeze or a flit of dragonfly or the brush of insect.
Imagery link here
My devotional blog is here.