carpet on a hillside
a cup of grassy wine
bitter salad greens
Nodding in the wind
dancing on the wind
In Ray Bradbury’s eponymous book of short stories, Dandelion Wine is a metaphor for all the magical wonders of a childhood summer, bottled and sealed for winter. My copy of the book is a Bantam edition from 1959. The price, printed on the front cover, was 35 cents!
From chapter 3:
“So, plucked carefully, in sacks, the dandelions were carried below. The cellar dark glowed with their arrival. The wine press stood open, cold. A rush of flowers warmed it. The press, replaced, its screw rotated, twirled by Grandfather, squeezed gently on the crop…The golden tide, the essence of this fine fair month ran, then gushed from the spout below, to be crocked, skimmed of ferment, and bottled in clean ketchup shakers, then ranked in sparkling rows in cellar gloom.
Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered.”
Have you ever made or tried dandelion wine? The Guardian recently posted a recipe that I can’t wait to try.
This post is my contribution to Fiona Robyn’s My Most Beautiful Thing blogsplash, to celebrate the launch of Fiona’s new book, The Most Beautiful Thing, available today as a free download from Kindle. I’m off to read it now!