Friday, June 01, 2007
Defending Dandelions
Alright, I confess: we have one of those lawns dotted with dandelions. We also have a shady maple tree with a welcoming swing, butterflies and birds fluttering through our perennial beds, and scented geraniums near the sidewalk with “pinch me” signs so passers-by can enjoy the unexpected pleasures of lemon, berry, rose, and ginger if they stoop to rub the curly leaves.
And, yes, we have dandelions. While finicky monoculturists may see this as a failure, I see our blooming lawn as a hopeful statement about the future: We don’t poison our lawn because we don’t want to poison the environment. We DO believe in biodiversity, in peaceful co-existence for all manner of flora and fauna – including that most vexing species, humans.
I think of the humble dandelion as a kind of canary in the coal mine – with a twist. Tolerating dandelions in our lawns is an early sign of what just might save us; they are a cheerful harbinger of a sustainable and, frankly, more beautiful future. After all, what could sing out “Spring!” more than violets and dandelions bursting in glorious profusion – a Claude Monet carpet of deep purple and egg-yolk yellow?
We’ve reached some important tipping points in ecological awareness. Consider how habitual it has become to recycle. Who among us could toss a plastic bottle in a regular old garbage can without a sting of guilt? It’s more than knowing we should recycle – recycling has just become second nature.
We’re heading this way in the use of re-usable shopping bags, when increasingly it’s not just nutty-crunchy types who bring their own bags to the market, but regular folks like me who have finally made the modest investment in the net, nylon and canvas bags used for marketing the world over. (A quick Google of “reusable bags” opens many affordable options.) I still feel a tad smug when I carry my bags into stores, hoping to catch sight of folks I know so I can flaunt my new Green credentials and say, “Oh, yes, these are mine ... la, la, just another day in the life of a cutting edge eco-babe!” When I no longer think twice – or think anything but “no duh!” – I’ll know my reusable bags have become dandelion-ordinary.
In the spirit of early summer’s promise, I’ve been stoking my Green-spiration with Barbara Kingsolver’s delicious new book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, in which she chronicles her family’s move from Tucson to a farm in Virginia, where they learn to raise what they eat and get in tune with seasonal foods. The book is rich with recipes and reflections from Kingsolver’s biologist husband and college-age daughter. It is both a memoir and a eco-resource on everything from asparagus to zucchini to mating turkeys and making cheese, enticing us to retrain our habits and taste buds as part of the “locavore” movement – locavore meaning to grow and eat locally.
Those of us with smaller plots to cultivate may enjoy the many guidebooks for Greening the ‘burbs, such as Joan Dye Gussow’s This Organic Life: Confessions of a Suburban Homesteader, which has ideas, large and small, for earth-friendly gardening and concrete goals such as committing to spend at least $10.00 of food money each week on locally-produced goods. What could be easier, or tastier? Tangy farmer’s market goat cheese from Michiana critters, for example, is cheaper, fresher, and comes without excess packaging – better for me, better for the earth, better for local farmers trying their darnedest to do the right thing.
There’s further inspiration in the boldly titled Food not Lawns: How to Turn Your Yard into a Garden and Your Neighborhood into a Community, by Heather Flores. She makes a lively case for reviving our yards as spaces where plant and human biodiversity can flourish, if we only get our hands dirty. At our house, inviting passing walkers to enjoy the aroma of our geraniums, to linger and chat, is a simple first step.
Before long, I hope, the lawn without dandelions will be the weird lawn – the throw-back lawn. Here’s to delicious dandelion greens, delicate violets and tangy purslane – the taste and beauty of a future – soon! – when ecology has truly come home.