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I was reminded of this sentence as my family took a walk one fresh, clear, spring evening. No child (or adult) can resist the whimsical lure of the dandelion to send a puff of seeds sailing into the air like little, miniature umbrellas. Especially, my sweet, little girl. Weeds are her bouquets of choice these days, and each little yellow flower she spots in the grass is a treasure to be picked.
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