a color story: dandelion filled lawn

It was a nice bright day. The family gathering took our events outdoors as the greenhouse home turned into a temporary sauna. There was a gardening elephant in the neighborhood. The neighboring dandelions on the opposing lawn covered the home. To break the silence, someone commented how nice the dandelion looked. The tone of the weird statement placed me in a dilemma. Could the bright yellow daffodils be a nice aesthetic in a lawn?

I believed the non-gardener family member made the comment. And I didn't entirely disagree. 

The pristine green lawn was a myth. Every day new weeds appeared without permission - it was a chore driven by our aesthetic monochromatic needs. From clovers to crabgrasses, the dandelion weed stood out the most for its tall yellow flowers and wind sailing seeds. The yellow dandelion flowers accentuated the imperfection of the ideal green lawn.

In our lawn, we took great pride in hand picking out the weeds from the lawn. This chore must have been rooted from the big man's obligation in the Korean military. I discovered that hand picking out weeds was the best practice from my short one week stint working for a professional gardening team. Weed killer chemicals were a big no no in the long term view of soil quality.  

When I heard the comment towards the dandelion lawn, "that's a beautiful lawn", it struck a deep chord. Let's keep in mind that the lawn looked yellow - it wasn't just small specks of it. Usually when you noticed a yellow lawn, it represented unhealthy or "barely surviving". But, in the case of the dandelion covered lawn, my prenotion of yellow changed - a yellow lawn alluded to wild and chaotic. The lawn's imperfections represented the lawn - this lawn displayed a punk rock rebellious energy. But, this observation only penetrated skin deep. 

How did I even get towards this thought? Could it be that I saw dandelion more than a nuisance?

We started to eat dandelions. They tasted delicious after much necessary preparations - cutting the root, cutting the flower heads, brushing off soil remnants, boiling the edible aspects, marinating with a blend of sesame oil and chili paste. As a result, the "nuisance" transformed into a delectable banchan, a vegetable side dish. (I highly recommend eating this dish with white steam rice.) The banchan fascination was a trend we picked up from Korean media; I hope it doesn't stay as a trend.

Although I helped make the dandelion banchan, I felt more invested in the first step: pulling out the weed. But, the grueling hours of handpicking out the dandelions became a religious chore. Like all hobbies, the most difficult aspect is just getting started. After the first ten, something fascinating happened to my psyche; I secretly enjoyed the mindless action. I went into the flow state from picking out these yellow weeds. One of the best feelings was picking out a large dandelion and seeing the long roots sprout out of the soil - the longer the better. But, witnessing the green congruency on the lawn left an undeniable congruent aesthetic impression. So, the more I pulled these yellow weeds, the more I felt like my aesthetic urges were met. So, you can only imagine what my subconscious screamed when I saw the yellow infested lawn. It was a chore wonderland. I wondered how many I could pull before my gardening gloves started to rip. 

The next day, I believed the neighbor found time to mow the lawn. The beautiful yellow lawn disappeared with only remnants of the dandelion flower stems appearing as empty straws.  The neighbor's yellow lawn wasn't an aesthetic choice, to say the least. 

I returned back to my comfort zone, my lawn, and noticed other interesting "weeds" in the lawn. Other natural but spreading weeds appeared in my conscious eyes. I noticed hints of blue, purple areas plus the occasional tall yellows. 

I opened a new pair of gardening gloves. It's been a while since I entered the flow state. It seemed to appear in the impression of yellow.