As we gaze with wonder at the balsamroot blooming on the hillsides, marvelling at how its bright yellow colour seems to cheer up the saddest soul, I wonder why I cannot summon the same wonder for the crop of dandelions now blooming on my lawn.

Afterall balsamroot and dandelions are plant cousins. They are both of the family Asteraceae. But I liken the situation to a family that split into achievers and ne’er do wells. The balsamroot Asteraceae went off to fame and fortune and became beloved members of the flower population, to be oohed and aahed over while tourists snap photos, and the dandelions hung out in dark alleys and eventually began to infest people’s lawns and be come the scourge of groundskeepers everywhere. Now the balsamroot will not even acknowledge the dandelion as kin, turning their sunshine coloured noses up at their cousin the weed.

The weed, like a typical miscreant, ignores its lofty cousin and instead turns its attention to multiplying. Take that balsamroot, it says, as it hops from lawn to lawn. You can have Sunflower Hill and the slopes near the Mission. I will have the lawns of Kimberley and Cranbrook. I win!

And the weed has earned a big victory in recent days. In Kimberley, at least, cosmetic pesticides to control dandelions have been banned. No more does the dandelion need to fear Weed and Feed or any of its chemical cousins. No, the weed is free to propagate at will.

It still need fear the hearty lawn owner with a mind to cut it out. I have a friend in Northern Ontario who is a doctor. Mindful of spreading harmful pesticides but filled with hatred for the dandelion, she actually fills a syringe with weed killer and injects each dandelion individually. Such dedication to a lawn is beyond me I’m afraid. So the dandelions prosper on my property.

However as I looked with dismay at the colourful crop that sprouted not 12 hours after I mowed my lawn, Mother Nature came to my rescue. A herd of six deer wandered into my yard and neatly nipped the top off of every flower, er weed. And as I looked at the ungulates in gratitude, I wondered, would I be as pleased to see the deer eating the balsamroot?