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  • Writer's pictureJeff Farrell

Some Thoughts on the Common Dandelion

The dandelion’s pallid tube

Astonishes the grass

And winter instantly becomes

An infinite alas — Emily Dickinson


Envision a summer meadow in New England, full of sunny daisies, delicate Queen Anne’s lace, golden buttercups, sturdy red clover, and, by the roadside, powder blue chicory. Such familiar plants, yet none are native. In our lawns (hopefully untreated with herbicides) two common weeds prevail: broad-leaved plantain and dandelion, neither are native. All were brought from Europe, some intentionally, others by stowaway seeds in soil used as ballast on ships or even in clothing. The dandelion, Taraxacum officinale, was a valued source of edible greens and medicine. Seeds were carried across the ocean and planted by settlers. It is strange that such an important treasured plant has become a reviled weed in a crazy mania for perfect lawns.


The dandelion has been esteemed for its medicinal and culinary qualities for centuries. Arabian physicians mentioned it as far back as the tenth century. Dandelion wine is cited in Egyptian clay tablets. The bitter herbs of Passover could well be dandelion greens. In 1630 John Gerard wrote in his Herbal, “boyled in vinegar, it is good against paine that troubles some in the making of water.” Nicholas Culpeper claimed, “it is of an opening and cleansing quality, and therefore very effective for the obstruction of the liver, gall, and spleen.” In 1631 Governor Winthrop ordered seeds for his Boston garden. Dandelion greens are diuretic which explains the folk names of ‘piss-a-bed’ and ‘pissenlit’. The roots have been uses to alleviate skin disorders and digestive issues, as a cleanse of the liver and gallbladder, and as a coffee substitute.


“The dandelion lights its spark, lest St. Brigid find the wayside dark.”—Winifred Mary Letts


In Ireland the dandelion is St. Brigid’s flower, nicknamed ‘the Irish daisy’. Her feast day is the first of February, the Irish start of spring. In Japan there is a Dandelion Society devoted to the wonders of the genus. Asian species of dandelion are T.albidum with white flowers and T.pseudoroseum with pink blooms with yellow centers. Over two hundred varieties have been developed. Seeds for these Asian species are available from some American companies if you need to grow them. The town of Vineland, New Jersey has proclaimed itself ‘the dandelion capital of the world’ and for fifty years has produced feasts of dandelion omelets, raviolis, sausages, beer, wine, and vanilla ice cream with dandelion brandy.


The ball of fluffy seeds produced by the dandelion is a charming sight in the grass. The globe contains thousands of seeds, each with a pappus, the parachute of soft, white filaments which has been a source of pleasure to children throughout the ages. Blowing away the seeds can predict the time, the number of children or marriages, when it’s time to go home, or just to make a wish. Dandelion seeds feed many wild creatures and the soft filaments are used by hummingbirds to line their tiny nests. Many folk names of dandelions come from the seed heads, such as, faceclock and blowball. In Japan the nickname is tampopo, a kind of hand drum.


“Dandelion don’t tell no lie,

Dandelion will make you wise.

Blow away dandelion.”— Mick Jagger/Keith Richards


I loved to shake those parachutes loose when I was a child. Later, back in the days when many wore flowers in their hair and slipped blooms into the barrels of threatening guns, I sported dandelion flowers in each buttonhole of my shirt on my way to school. Now I eagerly wait for the first young leaves of the plant to be uncovered from the snow for my spring tonic of bitter, nutritious dandelion greens.

“Beautiful as a dandelion blossom golden in the green grass, this life can be.”—Edna St. Vincent Millay


P.S. My title was inspired by an essay written by George Orwell entitled, “Some Thoughts on the Common Toad”, which I discovered while reading the book “Orwell’s Roses” by Rebecca Solnit. I recommend both.


March 2022







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Jeffrey Farrell has lived and gardened in Ashfield for more than 40 years. Oh Dirty Feet, Notes From a Gardener © Jeffrey Farrell, 2019. All photos taken by the author unless otherwise noted. 

Follow him on Instagram at: oh.dirtyfeet@instagram.com.

If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions please email: Jeffrey Farrell 

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