The Car Full of Dandelions

Growing up, I always had a habit of leaning into things I didn’t understand. I’d try to observe and let things play out.

In high school, my friend Ben knocked over his can of Pepsi in science class.

The soda spread across the black counters and started falling over the edge. Instead of picking up the can, he pointed and yelled, “ahhhhhhooooohhhh” while jumping up and down, his other hand as a fist in front of his mouth.

Curiously, I pointed and started yelling with him until the teacher looked at us like we were stupid.

We were indeed stupid.

But to a 9th and 10th grader in high school class, this felt like comedic gold. Clearly it was as it remains a memory.

Years later I found myself walking down the sidewalk of a small Panamanian town along the beach.

Holding onto the straps of my backpack, I navigated the pavement paying attention to the spots where tree roots had lifted up the concrete or climbed over it.

In my peripherals I noticed I was coming up to an older man sitting down with his back leaning against a tree. He was quietly staring at a car parked in front of him.

That wasn’t the curious part. The curious part was the car.

It was an old Volkswagen beetle sitting on blocks. Not just that. It was painted with every possible color and filled with dirt. The top and hood were non-existent. Instead, dandelions were growing out of the top. Full leaved, yellow flowered dandelions.

As I came up to the man, he took a swig of Mexican coke then let it hang between his propped-up legs that he was resting his arms on.

He quietly kept staring.

Finding this odd, I slid my backpack off, grabbed my water bottle and sat down near him mimicking his posture.

Back propped against a tree near him, I took a drink of water and stared at the car and its dandelions too.

There we sat. Staring at a car filled with dirt and weeds.

“Crecen porque pueden.”

I gave the man a quizzical look.

“These plants. They grow because they’re able to grow”

“You mean because the car is filled with soil?”

Taking another swig of Mexican Coke then putting it down he continues, “It’s the roots. These flowers. Weeds, you call them. It’s the roots. They reach deeper than any other surrounding plant. That’s why they grow. They keep digging longer than the others. They grow because they can.”

Finishing another drink of water I asked, “And you just sit here and watch?”

“It’s more than just watching, it’s learning. It’s about them. It’s about me. It’s about all of us.”

I take another drink and sit and watch.

He takes a drink and sits and watches.

Time passes before I cave and have to ask, “How long have you been here? Why do you stay?”

“¿Por qué te importa?”

“Solo quiero saber.”

“I watch to bear witness. If these “weeds” were in the ground... we would only see the overgrowth that people loathe. Here, I can see the roots growing down against the windows. I can see their persistence. The drive to keep growing. I can see the beauty in them. I see in them what I try to see in myself and others. I see the beauty in the dirt before the flower.”

We sat in silence for some time. The sun passed overhead. People walked by in conversation. Dogs sniffed and pouted before moving on.

He eventually finished his coke and quietly stood up and walked away.

I’m not sure why neither of us said goodbye, but it seemed right.

After some time, I decided it was my turn to do the same.

As the sun set, I continued on my way.

Crecen porque pueden.

Keep going.