Dandelion. Dent-de-lion. Lion's tooth. What a heavy name for an ethereal weed. If only one could swing on its many parachutes and float away into some magic world, as Disney characters very often do. If only they didn't make the back of the throat itch. There were thousands of white gossamer dandelion seeds in the air this surprisingly summer-like weekend, floating silently and gracefully like first snow flakes of winter. "They cause allergies," S frowned and warned her son and me to steer clear. "Here, blow it," six years old T brought me a seed-head in the park this morning, while his mother was away. He watched me blow it with delight. Then he took the stalk from me, ran with it like it was a live cracker, and threw it away in the air some distance away. Sun dappled shade in the park, inquisitive chipmunks and sparrows for company, a friendship sealed with a gift of dandelion...heaven! S lives in Oak Park, a western suburb of Chicago, establish...