Blowing in the wind

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

Where dandelions once stood, there are now fields of white clover. When a breeze blows up the valley, their low-lying flowers gently bend and bob, but even when the air is still, they dance. It's uncanny. I bend over and see that a honeybee is gathering pollen from every dancing flower. There must be thousands of bees across the field.

I am curious though where all the dandelions have gone. Their countless yellow flowers have completely disappeared. There are no awkward puffball topped spikes to be seen anywhere. They have just vanished, but I am thankful that the valley's bees now have fields of clover upon which to dine. The dandelions disappearance does seem curious though.

We have now lived in the creek valley for 23 years. One might think that I would have learned all that there is to know about the floral and fauna with whom we share our home, but this is not so. I am learning all the time, but I am surprised that I had never before noticed how, almost overnight, for the past 23 years, the dandelions were suddenly gone.

I have known that dandelions are a prolific flower. Even as a city child I had blown across a puffball dandelion head and watched the seeds float away. I now know that each flower can produce up to 20,000 viable seeds. By my calculations the roadsides and fields should all be covered with nothing but dandelions, but they are not, at least not now. Where, oh where, have all these flowers gone? And yes, it did take me a long time passing to even consider this question. 23 years to be exact. Well ... I looked and found the answer, not quite blowing in the wind, but I found it.

The reason for the dandelions quick disappearance is that they have finished their natural bloom cycle. Rather than expend their energy continually flowering and propagating, they have now turned their attention to growing their deep taproots even deeper into the soil.

Dandelions are really not the wicked weed that some might think. They not only provide early food for pollinators, but their roots also act as a natural soil builder. Their thick taproots penetrate deep into the ground, aerating the soil and breaking up hardpan. The roots often reach to a depth of one and a half feet. These deep roots also act like miniature "nutrient pumps" bringing essential minerals, such as calcium and potassium, to the ground's surface and allowing other plants, with more shallow roots, to benefit.

The time has already passed, but perhaps next spring, I might consider using dandelions as a garden fertilizer. I can gather up the leaves, chock full of calcium and potassium, chop them into small pieces, and mix them into my garden soil. They'll not only add organic matter, but will return valuable nutrients to my garden's topsoil. I remember how my tomatoes have suffered from a lack of calcium in years past, showing blotched and rotten bottoms. Next year I plan to add chopped dandelion leaves to my tomato beds to avoid such an issue. If I feel truly energetic, I could even steep the leaves and roots and make a tea to pour around the base of my garden plants, though I somehow doubt that I'll be that energetic.

It's not that I am lazy. It is just that if I am going to make a tea, I am going to drink that tea myself. I am a firm believer that there is nothing quite like sitting on my front porch swing on a cool spring or fall evening and sipping a bit of tea.

I'll pick the flower heads and cut off the petals, not leaving any green at all. I'll let the petals dry on a stainless-steel mesh frame in the sunshine, and when thoroughly dried, I’ll seal them in an airtight container. When making either fresh or dried flower tea, I can put the flowers in a pot of water and let it heat up to a boil and then continue to boil it for about five more minutes. I'll turn off the heat and then let it steep for another five or so minutes. Really, I doubt that it's possible to "over-brew" dandelion tea. I will then add either brown sugar or honey.

The tea is said to have health benefits, promoting liver health, reducing inflammation, and stabilizing blood sugar, though this is all anecdotal, and, as with any wild edible, one should make sure that no chemical herbicides or pesticides have been applied to the area where the flowers are gathered. Finally, it’s best to first sample just a small amount of the tea, and then, without any allergic reaction, later indulge in more. The tea has a golden color, and a gentle sweet taste, somewhat like honey.

So, as I kick back on my front porch swing with a cup of dandelion tea, I can imagine the answer to the question of where the dandelion flowers have gone. The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind. I know that we have all blown across their puffball heads. Yes, the answer is blowing in the wind.