I learned something yesterday. Not during my bike ride — out to Brenton Point where I stopped for a few minutes to ponder the jetty and assorted benches looking out to sea — but at my hair appointment, where my hair guy told me that "yellow" is relevant to fishermen. When he isn't doing hair (and, no, my hair isn't yellow), my hair guy (and friend, who does Mr. Betty's hair, too) loves to angle for striped bass. And just when the forsythia is dying down and the dandelions are springing up, i.e., right now, that's apparently when it's time to start bass fishing. Who knew?? Not I, certainly, though I was thinking about "yellow" in Newport a week or so ago. Not Mr. Betty, who enjoys fishing for stripers, though he generally has little success.
I've stood in this spot and pondered the jetty and its stairway (up or down?) and empty benches and related tragedies and fishing boats going in and out many times before. But I had not thought much about dandelions. They're tough, resourceful, even pretty, if you consider them carefully and individually, like so many things. And it's nice to think their arrival signifies something, that someone watches and waits for them, that dandelions play a role ...
N.B. I've said it before (and I'll say it again, I'm sure): you can always click on a photo to make it bigger ... they're MUCH better bigger.
