When i hear the word dandelion, i naturally think of its petiteness, lightness and litheness. Dandelion has been constantly pursuing and searching for something since its birth.
I love dandelion, and i love the breeze. I love the fantastic picture of dandelion flying leisurely in the breeze. What a harmonious scene.
As long as there is wind, the dandelions will spread their seeds, no matter where the future generations will end up, just give them wings, let them fly.
A seed a wind, created the brilliance of dandelions.
Little dandelions flying in the air, like angels of wind, elegant and beautiful. They flew away, i ran after them, they seemed to fly faster aned faster, looking for something. I stopped and watched, the sunshine gently spilled on them, cloaking them with a layer of gold, just like golden little clouds.
Usually dandelions are in every quiet corner, humbly observing the world, they don’t resist no matter who wants to take them away, they don’t use thorns and toxins, this is a thorough love for the world.
Dandelion in summer, is a plain and pure color, a quiet elegant color, in the sunshine, spurring an upsurge of comfortable feeling.
Dandelion is the first to wake up in spring, then the earth, then the village of spring, then a whole new round of year.
The lengthier the wind, the farther the dandelions fly, no matter how remote a place, or desolate, they’re willing to stay, this is a selfless love for the world.
When summer arrives, the field is covered with golden dandelions, they seem to put a T-shirt on the earth. Although not as bright as peony, nor as fragrant as cloves, but the simple beauty of dandelion is most endearing.
The wind lets them spin toward the distance beautiful place. Dandelions are like tiny dancers, flying to the hot blue sky, persevering in chasing after their dream.
Yellow flowers of dandelions are like tiny chicks, tiny crowns, tiny pompons, tiny umbrellas, they flutter and laugh, so cute and lovely.
They dance lightly in the air, touching the softest spot in the heart.
They need no fertilizer to cultivate, nor a fixed manor, they’re fragile, yet powerful.
When the wind rises, the seeds drift into the air, like tiny paratroopers, drifting to the distant flower beds, to the walls of school, to who knows where…