Dandelions in spring

This week was filled with fragile things: easter eggs of many colors, dyed by tiny hands, and tiny bones, too feeble for their age, fractured on too nice of a day.

Laszlo, when they say your bones are weak, I hear something different. I hear that your mind is a beautiful thing, that you need sunshine on your face and bone broth in your belly. I hear nettles and oatstraw, red clover, dandelion, and comfrey. 

I hear that where your arms and legs fail you, there are so many waiting to help you along. To show you how to play and how to explore, how to watch for the birds and dance in a mid-summer rainstorm.

And how to eat the dandelions in spring.

Love,
Mama