Aurora 2024

Sara Allard

greenhouse 20-some years ago, set to turn it into some soulless botany lab, I turned them down flat. I decided if my little garden’s the only place these dandelions got, then I’m runnin’ the show. Wasn’t I owed that, considerin’ those snooty scientists and their white coats couldn’t stop this whole situation? After ignorin’ their emails--and gettin’ some generous checks from flower minded folks —my backyard garden has bloomed into a full dandelion kingdom. See, I ain’t just preservin’ pollinators here, but also the proper society that respected nature: the golden days of garden parties. Back in the Victorian days, folks used to wear their finest Sunday clothes just to walk around gardens and lawns. Those fine people respected Mother Nature and wouldn’t have let dandelions disappear before their eyes. That’s why I’ve turned my nursery into a courtyard fit for a palace. I replaced my old plastic tents with four glass greenhouses the size of small warehouses and added a two-story glass dome to stand proudly in the middle That dome is my true pride and joy: a tearoom filled with fountains, chandeliers, and of course, plenty of trellises covered in dandelions. Folks book tables here years in advance so that they can feel the joy from the best bygone era we got. It’s also where I’ve decided to watch the sunrise from this morning, hopin’ it’ll do my dusty noggin’ some good. The winter-thawin’ sunshine and grassy smell of my dandelions in their prime cocoon stage is helpin’

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