Attack of the Tanpopo

If dandelions were hard to grow, they would be most welcome on any lawn. ~Andrew V. Mason

5.30am, May 15...

Warm rays of the morning sun breaks into the room. It's a fine weather despite the usually-reliable weatherman's gloomy forecast - a whole week of cloudy, rainy days. Standing at the balcony commands a full view at the airfield, even though the reluctant earlu mist still refuses to give way to dawn.

Then - horror of all horrors! They're everywhere! The legions of relentless paratroopers, like a plague of locusts, come in swarms, carried by the wind. Sound the alarm, sound the alarm!

Don't let this nasty things fool you. From a distance, these dandellion seed balls do look like snow. But they're actually fluffy balls of wool that, somehow, always seem to be able to find a way to enter your room, even if you shut the doors tight enough to intoxicate yourself with the carbon dioxide you exhale. They are so abundant that you can live through the whole summer if you make them your staple food.

And, what the heck, whenever I clean my room twice a week, these nasty thingies account for 99.5% of the dirt; the other 0.9% due to hair loss and 0.1% because of stardust.

Soon enough, these beautiful flowers will turn into the fluffy, woolly balls that will invade your rooms!

Hmm.... Admittedly, it looks kind of curious. And it has a curious Japanese name too. Tanpopo, it is called...

Ahh, shut the door, shut the door! One just got into the room!

Ten hours later...

Battlefield report - Still floating around in the air, the unrelenting legions of tanpopo show no sign subsiding. The weatherman was right, it is raining. Raining tanpopo.