I love patterns. I see them everywhere in nature – in the clouds, in the marsh grass, in the boat-shaped petals of a Lupin, in winter’s drifts of snow. And in dandelion blowballs.
At first glance, it’s just another weed gone to seed. I have a lot of them. On closer inspection, there’s something compelling about the perfect downy globe of a dandelion head.
Blowing the seeds away is like casting your worries to the wind.
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