There are wishes in my hair, constellations of fluff from dandelion ghosts my daughter blows in my direction. She always wishes for the same impossible thing: a dinosaur resurrection. Of course, it hasn’t happened, but to her, it simply hasn’t happened yet. She needs to keep wishing. Meanwhile, my toddler stomps through the yard with a plastic shovel, smashing the head off every dandelion he sees. My daughter is upset, not that he’s destroying them, but that he doesn’t make a wish first. As clouds of pappus bloom in his wake, she watches helplessly, all that unused magic, floating away.
Photo Credit: tanakawho
Beautiful. I was there with you, witnessing the hopes of your daughter and her annoyance at her brother’s wasted wishes.
Really!! liked this story-makes me want to go outside and look for dandelions that have gone to seed and blow, blow, and blow!
Relatable. You do an excellent job of capturing the earnestness, belief, abandon, magic, and helplessness of childhood.
Brilliant. I love every word stringed together. Such a magical story.
That is truly beautiful
Love this–carried me along like dandelion fluff
Captivating imagery!
Very nice!
Beautiful imagery! Loved every word of it!