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StatNisland Flower - Dandelion per RS Marguerite Rivas sipoet I don't know -- if it's between dandelion and punk (cat-tail), I'd have to pick punk. Dandelions have that gross milky stuff in their stems.I did have a neighbor who used to make dandelion wine, though. I'm really no good at this; I keep thinking about honeysuckle. Haven't figured out that serpentine flower yet. I'll call my naturalist friends tomorrow.The cat-tail is not a flower, though. Sheesh I'm confused. This is too much pressure.

Wild violet -- that's my vote, I think. There were apparently 30 hybrids in violets on Staten Island at one time, if I'm reading my Leng and Davis correctly. I had a cool violet experience the other day. I went for a walk in Alison Pond Park woods and came upon a very old downed maple tree.It was one of those beautiful sunny blue-skies days. Anyway I noticed that the base of the uprooted tree extended over a brook and was shaped like a big nest. I climbed up to it and sat on the perch with my legs crossed and kind of nested there for a while. Anyway, it was a big old tree and I was up pretty high. As I looked down, I beheld the most mesmerizing sight. On the other side of the brook there was a bed of violets. They had these little upturned faces - sun-seeking I guess. They looked at me as though they were awaiting some grand proclamation. (I had none.)There were dozens (if not more; I have discalcula) of them.If there wasn't a living spirit in them, they I don't know what. I was so stirred that I bent my head down to take in the moment and just think. Well, my perch was suspended over the water and some of the smaller roots sticking out from the stump formed a kind of circle. It kind of reminded me of when you form a circle with your thumbs touching and your index fingers touching (kind of like playing here is the church,etc). I peered down through the circle to the brook below; I felt as though I were looking into the womb of the woods. There at the bottom, I could see the sky- a blue and white patchwork - clearly reflected in the water. It was amazing - the sky above me; the sky below me and those violet witnesses to the spirit of the woods. So, after all that, I guess I have to say the violet is my choice -- hearty, yet delicate,too. Has a face with a small sun in the middle and you know what else I noticed? When I went to visit the graves of those 1843 murder victims, the young mother and her child, the words on the headstones were obliterated, but the grave was blanketed with wild violets. I took one home and pressed it for remembrance.
When there's no one left to mourn you, the Staten Island violet will be there. Violet- definitely violet.

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