The Flower With The Heart Of A Lion

Whether carpeting verges in a blaze of golden yellow or inviting us to puff its globular seed heads into the breeze, the humble dandelion is indomitablen and ubiquitous, says Vicky Liddell

- Vicky Liddell

AS the daffodils fade, their golden crown is passed to another bloom that bursts through cracks in pavements and luxuriates on lawns. The dazzling yellow mop heads of dandelions might not always be welcome, but their cheery loveliness cannot be denied (In the Garden, February 10).

With a name derived from the French dent de lion, after their jagged-toothed foliage, the taxonomy of Taraxacum officinale (agg) is far from simple. Although easily identified as a genus, there are at least 250 recorded species, each with minute differentiations that can confound the most dedicated taraxacologist. This vast population divides into nine groups, including dandelions with spotty leaves (Naevosa), which tend to grow in the North; small ones, such as the ruddy dandelion in the Erythrosperma group, with deeply dissected leaves and tiny flowerheads; and Hamata, with their hook-shaped leaf lobes, which mostly grow on waste ground. Some, such as Bertha’s dandelion, are so rare that they have been red-listed. Most will grow anywhere, but their absolute favourite place is a road verge next to roaring traffic—this accounts for at least 30 species.

Culpeper said if it was consumed in spring, we might “see plainly without... spectacles”