Spring arrived, bringing rain and lukewarm temperatures that slowly eroded away winter’s snow. The seasonal evolution also ushered forth fresh, lush colors. White and brown were quickly replaced by green, and if the sky was not gray it was a crisp, radiant blue. The world awoke with life and the promise of vibrant warmer months.

I stood at the dining room window, surveying my backyard’s awakening and estimating how long I had before resuming my Sisyphean responsibilities of mowing and trimming. The time was nigh; thick, green grass stared back at me, soaking up the invigorating sunshine. While the thought of dealing with mowing each week, sometimes twice, and keeping up with the adulthood peer pressure that is maintaining a lawn made my blood pressure rise, I was relieved to see the grass doing grass things. Two summers prior, an insect horde chose our backyard, and only our backyard, to use as its base of operations. What had once been a lush and thick oasis of green was decimated and left to look like a schoolyard dirt patch. Mother Nature’s efforts combined with my own (and no small amount of expense), however, had restored the wasteland to passable semblance of a yard, and it continued improving. There were still a few thin patches, but overall, any other observer would never know there had been such destruction.

So, despite my reluctance to actually want to work on the yard, there was pride in the fact it was back to looking, well, good. But pride, oh pride, is the euphoria before the fall. Spring awakens many things. Critters venture out to make new homes, or is seemingly always the case, dig new homes. Ants construct their temples to the sky. Flying, stinging creatures quickly establish a foothold and make sure to introduce themselves at every opportunity. The yard becomes a wildlife refuge. I have, however, learned to live with and handle these annoyances. Repellants and sprays are my weapons to fight back, to stem the tide until the next season. I expect to see these things as I look across those green blades. Today was different. My eyes traced along my typical mowing path, noting each obstacle and nuance from the prior year. Then, they suddenly stopped and snapped back to an unexpected sight, and alarm bells sounded. There, rising defiantly above the grass, was a yellow-headed demon.

I had seen these evil deceivers many times, but they had never ventured into my territory. A dandelion had sunk its roots into my turf and was now daring me to do something about it. Dandelions are truly Sirens of the green, pretty on top but treacherous underneath. They have purpose, but they are not welcome to fulfill that purpose in my yard. This particular dandelion knew I was looking at it, and as if motioning me to look around with greater attention, I noticed it was not alone. There was one, then two, then three, then four, then more, and as my gaze wandered over to my neighbors’ yards, I saw fields of them. They were seemingly everywhere.

This discovery required immediate action. With spade in hand, I descended upon the interlopers with determined relish as I plunged steel and fist into the earth to remove the roots. Their white veins were stubborn and deep, fighting my every pull and scrape. I gave no consideration to the healthy lawn surrounding the dandelions’ emplacement; I cared only for their removal and destruction. By the end, clumps of disheveled dirt and grass lay strewn about, casualties of the battle that had just taken place. After disposing of the dandelion carcasses, I gathered myself, and wiped the beaded sweat from my brow, and went back inside, content with my victory.

The next morning, sunlight crept over the horizon, casting orange and yellow hues on the lawn’s dew-draped tendrils. My coffee smelled extra robust and promised flavorful first sips as reward for yesterday’s victory. Mug in hand, I sauntered over to the window to take in the dawning day. I was right, the first sip was majestic, the warmth filling me with vigor to take on the day. And I savored it, eyes closed to sustain the experience. The moment subsided and I returned my gaze to the backyard. It was then that my peaceful sojourn abruptly ended. My coffee mug stayed frozen at the cusp of my lips as I blinked several times to ensure my eyes were not deceiving me. Any enthusiasm I had for the day drained from my being. There, in the middle of the yard, sat a single, taunting dandelion.

To cleanse your palette from this tale of human on dandelion violence, please read the following that highlights the positives that dandelions do, in fact, possess.

• Richness in vitamins A, C, and K
• Contain antioxidants and anti-inflammatory compounds
• Used to make salads, teas, soups, wines, and even coffee (definitely not the kind I consumed)
• Deep roots break up compacted soil and bring nutrients up to the surface
• Attract beneficial insects that promote pollination and control aphids
• Suppress growth of harmful fungi and bacteria (Avoiding a The Last of Us situation)

So, while I don’t want them taking over my yard, I can get on board with their presence.