The scourge of dandelions
By Donald A. Windsor
Deputy Historian, Chenango County
Our most spectacular spring wildflower is the dandelion. The photo shows a field in Oxford full of them. However, just as no good deed goes unpunished, so too no wildflower goes unpersecuted. The annual dandelion massacre occurs every spring as the mowers roar out.
So, what’s not to like about dandelions? OK, their spherical seed arrays are not always appreciated. They certainly can make a lawn look, well ... seedy. But the widespread contempt for the dandelion runs much deeper, far deeper than its elongated tap root. The dandelion seems to be the poster flower for the misguided fetish of weed-free lawns. To place things in their proper perspective, a lawn devoid of weeds is usually a lawn laced with pesticides. A lawn without weeds proclaims to the world that the property owner may harbor a callous disregard for the environment. Poisonous chemicals applied to a lawn ultimately run off into waterways, where they can inflict ecological damage.
Hostility toward dandelions reflects attitudes toward nature. This cheerful little flower has the power to further polarize an already divided society. Well, like it or not, everything has a history and that includes dandelions. They are not native to the Americas and were first brought here in the 1600s by colonists from Europe. They were imported as a garden vegetable. Today the dandelion enjoys a worldwide distribution. It is a cosmopolitan symbol of European aggrandization.
The name “dandelion” comes from the French for tooth of the lion, “dent de lion,” a fanciful description of its sharp-pointed leaves. Naming a bright yellow flower for its green leaves is puzzling. Curiously enough, the French word for dandelion is “pissenlit,” a reference to its diuretic properties.
Dandelion greens are still eaten by many folks. Although dandelions are not included in my normal food fare, I did try them again for this article. Upon learning that an agricultural variety is available at the P&C in Norwich, on the fresh produce counter, I splurged and bought a bunch to run a one-on-one comparison with the wild leaves. Why buy them when they can be had for free? Taste! The store-bought leaves have a much better flavor without all the bitterness and after taste. They can even be eaten raw or boiled only once. The difference is well worth the cost. If you are curious, blow a couple bucks and buy a bunch.
Perhaps the difference is in the picking. Fans of the wild leaves admonish neophytes to pick the greens before the flowers spring forth. However, for those of us who place such scheduling very low on our priority lists, the store-bought leaves are available whenever convenient. When the blossoms do appear, oenophiles can make wine from them, being sure to remove any green parts and stems.
The dandelion plays a role in my ongoing project to correlate the spring arrivals of migrating birds with the blooming of flowers, to compensate for early and late springs. Bobolinks arrive when the dandelions are in peak bloom. This is easy to remember because the male has a yellow patch on his nape and resembles a flying dandelion. Among other correlations are orioles arriving when apples blossom and chipping sparrows when forsythias are in their full glory.
Exactly when the first dandelion entered New York State remains elusive. Chances are that it was probably in the 1600s. Locally, our basic historical botany reference is Willard N. Clute’s 1898 book, “Flora of the Upper Susquehanna Valley and Its Tributaries.” Clute states on page 7 that for the year 1891 the first dandelion to bloom in Binghamton was on April 18. So we know that it was there then. On page 65 he tells us that it blooms ten months of the year. Here in Norwich, I have seen it blooming in every month.
Likewise, when dandelions entered Chenango county is also vague. However, the earliest mention that I know is in the recently typed “Diary of Mary Alice (Paul) Brooks 1906 - 1910.” On Tuesday May 15, 1906, she wrote, “I dug dandalions for greens this morning.” (Spelling in diaries is preserved.) Surely dandelions were here prior to 1906, but I have no documentation for an earlier date, so am still looking. Thanks to Dale Green for telling me about this one. Little did Mary Alice realize when she wrote that sentence that someone a century later would be delighted to read it.
Deputy Historian, Chenango County
Our most spectacular spring wildflower is the dandelion. The photo shows a field in Oxford full of them. However, just as no good deed goes unpunished, so too no wildflower goes unpersecuted. The annual dandelion massacre occurs every spring as the mowers roar out.
So, what’s not to like about dandelions? OK, their spherical seed arrays are not always appreciated. They certainly can make a lawn look, well ... seedy. But the widespread contempt for the dandelion runs much deeper, far deeper than its elongated tap root. The dandelion seems to be the poster flower for the misguided fetish of weed-free lawns. To place things in their proper perspective, a lawn devoid of weeds is usually a lawn laced with pesticides. A lawn without weeds proclaims to the world that the property owner may harbor a callous disregard for the environment. Poisonous chemicals applied to a lawn ultimately run off into waterways, where they can inflict ecological damage.
Hostility toward dandelions reflects attitudes toward nature. This cheerful little flower has the power to further polarize an already divided society. Well, like it or not, everything has a history and that includes dandelions. They are not native to the Americas and were first brought here in the 1600s by colonists from Europe. They were imported as a garden vegetable. Today the dandelion enjoys a worldwide distribution. It is a cosmopolitan symbol of European aggrandization.
The name “dandelion” comes from the French for tooth of the lion, “dent de lion,” a fanciful description of its sharp-pointed leaves. Naming a bright yellow flower for its green leaves is puzzling. Curiously enough, the French word for dandelion is “pissenlit,” a reference to its diuretic properties.
Dandelion greens are still eaten by many folks. Although dandelions are not included in my normal food fare, I did try them again for this article. Upon learning that an agricultural variety is available at the P&C in Norwich, on the fresh produce counter, I splurged and bought a bunch to run a one-on-one comparison with the wild leaves. Why buy them when they can be had for free? Taste! The store-bought leaves have a much better flavor without all the bitterness and after taste. They can even be eaten raw or boiled only once. The difference is well worth the cost. If you are curious, blow a couple bucks and buy a bunch.
Perhaps the difference is in the picking. Fans of the wild leaves admonish neophytes to pick the greens before the flowers spring forth. However, for those of us who place such scheduling very low on our priority lists, the store-bought leaves are available whenever convenient. When the blossoms do appear, oenophiles can make wine from them, being sure to remove any green parts and stems.
The dandelion plays a role in my ongoing project to correlate the spring arrivals of migrating birds with the blooming of flowers, to compensate for early and late springs. Bobolinks arrive when the dandelions are in peak bloom. This is easy to remember because the male has a yellow patch on his nape and resembles a flying dandelion. Among other correlations are orioles arriving when apples blossom and chipping sparrows when forsythias are in their full glory.
Exactly when the first dandelion entered New York State remains elusive. Chances are that it was probably in the 1600s. Locally, our basic historical botany reference is Willard N. Clute’s 1898 book, “Flora of the Upper Susquehanna Valley and Its Tributaries.” Clute states on page 7 that for the year 1891 the first dandelion to bloom in Binghamton was on April 18. So we know that it was there then. On page 65 he tells us that it blooms ten months of the year. Here in Norwich, I have seen it blooming in every month.
Likewise, when dandelions entered Chenango county is also vague. However, the earliest mention that I know is in the recently typed “Diary of Mary Alice (Paul) Brooks 1906 - 1910.” On Tuesday May 15, 1906, she wrote, “I dug dandalions for greens this morning.” (Spelling in diaries is preserved.) Surely dandelions were here prior to 1906, but I have no documentation for an earlier date, so am still looking. Thanks to Dale Green for telling me about this one. Little did Mary Alice realize when she wrote that sentence that someone a century later would be delighted to read it.
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