Every time I see a dandelion, I find myself with hori hori in hand, digging one out of the ground. This is not what people do in Reykjavik. Maybe because there is little color during most of the year, many bright spots yellow are cherished when they do appear. The dandelions I’ve seen in Reykjavik are on are steroids. Like skyscrapers, they are the redwoods of people’s gardens. Perhaps part of their charm in these settings has to do with the fact that most “Reykjavikites” don’t mow their lawns.