The Much-Maligned Dandelion

There once was a flower, Dandelion

Hated, unloved, much maligned

But not by me

And not by the bees

We find these lollipops of sunshine divine!

            Farmer Doug

 It’s the time of year when dandelions are in full and seemingly endless bloom here on Golden Dog Farm. And we love it!

Do you love, or do you hate the dandelion?

And do you really hate it, or do you just hate it because everyone else hates it?

Well, let me help you get to know the dandelion it a bit better and then you can decide.

First off, is the dandelion a weed or a flower?

The humble dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) hails from the same family (Asteraceae) as daisies, zinnias, marigolds, asters, coneflowers, dahlias, and even chrysanthemums. All flowers held in high regard and planted with intention in gardens across the world. Once the family connection is made, the similarities are unmistakable. Though the resemblance is less obvious, lettuce and artichokes are also distant cousins of the dandelion.  

So yes, it is a flower. Then again, if your only definition of a weed is something that grows where it is not welcome, then yes, it is decidedly a weed for many people.

Before I go any further, here’s a fun fact: the name dandelion is a corrupted pronunciation of the French dent de lion, or “lion’s tooth,” referring to the jagged leaves that are characteristic of the plant.

Back to the topic at hand, why do we like it?

Dandelions are good for wildlife.

When bees, butterflies, and other pollinators emerge in early spring, a tricky time with few other flowers blooming, they depend on dandelions as an early source of pollen and nectar.

The flowers provide nectar for nearly 100 species of insects, while the seeds and leaves feed over 30 species of birds, chipmunks, and other wildlife.

Dandelions are good for your health.

In fact, the dandelion, a plant we now attack with herbicidal vengeance was once so highly regarded, early European colonists took great pains to transport it from the Old World to the New. That’s right: the dandelion was no zebra mussel-style stowaway. It was brought to these shores on purpose, by the Pilgrims as lore would have it. 

For thousands of years, various parts of the dandelion plant have been used in Medicine to naturally detoxify the body and support healthy liver function and kidney function. The herb is well-documented as a diuretic, hence its other French name, pis en lit (which sounds much more romantic than its English translation, “piss the bed”). Dandelions have been used holistically to stimulate the appetite, settle upset stomach, improve skin issues, and treat a host of other ailments including heartburn, mastitis, inflammation, constipation, and hormonal imbalance.

In fact, every part of a dandelion is edible, from root to flower.

Dandelions are good for the land.

Dandelions aerate and condition distressed soil. The long, strong taproots of dandelions push through into dry, cracked, compacted earth, helping to break it up, create channels for air and water to penetrate, and maintain a loose soil structure that allows earthworms to do their work. The plants draw calcium, iron, and potassium from deep in the earth into their leaves. When they die and decompose, they leave behind mineral-rich organic matter that nourishes the soil.

So why do we people hate the dandelion?

Because it disrupts the endless green of a well-manicured lawn. Our obsession with lawns dates to the days when most people were actively involved in agriculture, growing their own food. Lawns were a symbol of wealth, a way to signal that a person could afford to maintain unproductive land.  And thanks to a few centuries of brainwashing, reinforced by modern marketing from folks like Scott’s, the concept planted deep roots and evolved into its current ideal: a uniform, highly manicured swath of nothing but grass. A symbol in suburban America that you take pride in your yard and your home. In this scenario, the dandelion is the unwelcome interloper, not just a blot on perfection but a symbol of neglect and even poverty. Small wonder that people feel compelled to annihilate all trace of Taraxacum officinale, lest they be judged as lazy or lacking in means.

Let’s Change the Narrative!

The irony of the lush, green lawn is that for pollinators (aka our honeybees), a monoculture of grass is the equivalent of a desert. A food desert, that is. That’s why there are so many movements/dates of recognition have been spawned in recent years to help remedy that situation. We now celebrate No Mow May, Reduce Your Lawn Day, and of course, World Bee Day which is celebrated worldwide today (May 20^th). 

So, please join us and give your pollinator friends a break and let your slightly less manicured lawn tell the world that you are not lazy ne’er-do-well, but instead a forward-thinking friend of the bees. 

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