January 23, 2018

Wishing Weeds by Nico Paradis

aleshin | fotolia.comIt started with a dandelion. One of the pesky ones that had already gone to seed. I had walked by countless duplicates, on my way to school in the mornings, and sneaking out the back three and a half hours later.

Silly little dandelion, don’t you know that nobody likes you? You are the culprit behind every gardener’s persistent lower back pain. You are inescapable. There will never be a world without you – never a perfectly even lawn.

If I, an angsty teenager with too much eyeliner, ever had a sentiment about dandelions, it was this.
That is, until I met you.

Did you consider me the dandelion of your lawn? Always hanging around, following you to park after park, texting you…and texting you…and texting you.

I took an interest in those weeds almost as quickly as I took an interest in you.

Wishing weeds and you were all I wished for.

And so walk after walk, wish after wish, I made you blow too.

It seemed like a fool-proof system – each wish would create more potential wishes and perhaps if I wished for you enough, you would begin to wish for me.

I’d like to think that it was something deeper than the roots of a dandelion weed that lead us to where we are now, sitting on our couch, watching our baby roll from one end of the living room to the other.

Regardless if it was fate, luck, excellent timing, or the 84 wishes I made, I am infinitely grateful that they have all came true.
And I couldn’t be more proud to say that the flower I think of when I think of us is not an orchid or a rose, but the ever-present, inescapable, always changing, dandelion. ~

Nico Paradis teaches Floral Crowns and Modern Floral Design at CFU — not creative writing. But if she can do this with words, can you imagine what she can do with flowers, even the most humble ones? Browse Nico’s upcoming floral classes and join her for a truly creative and beautiful class.