<p style=”margin-bottom: .25in;”><span style=”font-size: 12pt; font-family: Georgia;”>There is no distinction between the highs and lows of flowers — no plant is better than the other for my son. A dandelion is a gorgeous plant I must often stand to admire; take a photo of; and get on hands and knees to sniff. To many, it’s just an annoying weed to get rid of. </span></p>
<p style=”margin-bottom: .25in;”><span style=”font-size: 12pt; font-family: Georgia;”>Since I love taking photos of flowers, trees, and anything that grows, my son points to many things I may have passed by. </span></p>
<p style=”margin-bottom: .25in;”><span style=”font-size: 12pt; font-family: Georgia;”>”Photo,” he says while holding his hands up to mimic a camera in front of his eyes. Now, there are fields and fields of dandelions — everywhere (I mean everywhere) — there seem to be dandelions. I’ve got quite the collection of dandelion photos. </span></p>
<p style=”margin-bottom: .25in;”><a href=”http://nomorenicegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/2014-05-10_10-02-48_514.jpg"><img class=”alignnone size-large wp-image-334" src=”http://nomorenicegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/2014-05-10_10-02-48_514-1024x768.jpg" alt=”2014-05-10_10-02-48_514" width=”900" height=”675" /></a></p>
<p style=”margin-bottom: .25in;”><span style=”font-size: 12pt; font-family: Georgia;”>After stopping in the field by the little league park and taking a collection of photos, we drove home. On the sides of the road, in any given field, the dots of yellow dandelions burst bright in the afternoon sun and showcase the brilliant contrast of the green grass. I can no longer classify the dandelion as a weed. According to my son, the new dope is that the dandelion is a lovely flower in it’s own right. Strong, resiliant, and it knows exactly where to put down roots — an ingenious evolutionary design. This is the stuff great things are made of. </span></p>
<p style=”margin-bottom: .25in;”><a href=”http://nomorenicegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/2014-05-08_17-11-14_719.jpg"><img class=”alignnone size-large wp-image-333" src=”http://nomorenicegirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/2014-05-08_17-11-14_719-1024x768.jpg" alt=”2014-05-08_17-11-14_719" width=”900" height=”675" /></a></p>
<p style=”margin-bottom: .25in;”><span style=”font-size: 12pt; font-family: Georgia;”>”Photo,” he says, his hands holding his imaginary camera in front of his face. I hold up my hand (while keeping one on the wheel) and click. </span></p>