IN THE CLOVER

 

 

Everything is coming up clover. And I don't need to return to Iran, where I once viewed super-abundant fields of clover to see this spring flower blooming. My front yard is a field of white blossoms buzzing with fat bumblebees. Many of my neighbors have mowed their clover crops, but I'm loathe to see my front yard lose its snowy blossoms. I'm currently reading Basho, the haiku master, who glimpsed clover in bloom and was inspired to write: "Bush clover in blossom waves/without spilling a drop of dew."

Yesterday afternoon when I went outdoors to get the mail, I lingered in the front yard clover field longer than I wanted when the neighbor's hunting hound got loose and ran over for his perceived playtime. He jumped on me, pushed me into the clover field thrice before I was rescued by my friend Vickie who held back the dog until I could regain use of my 85-year old legs. The clover cushioned me nicely, but the playful dog that has had no canine training must have thought I wanted to look for lucky four leaves amid the field of white blossoms. I have several deep claw marks on my arm and hand as evidence of what he felt was a playful encounter.

As for the clover, I've given up looking for four-leaf specimens as I've heard that there are 5,000 three-leaf clovers for one four-leaf sample. Three-leaf clover symbolizes some notable theological virtues to which I aspire: faith, love, and hope.

 

As an administrator in Girl Scouting, I wore the traditional badge of this organization: a trefoil badge fashioned after a three-leafed clover plant for which Juliette Low gained the patent in 1914. When she stepped down from being the head of Girl Scout operations, GSUSA asked for this trefoil's patent. Clever Juliette Low agreed to do so only if the organization would keep her name on the Girl Scout constitution, stationery, and membership card. I have that evidence on a Certificate of Lifetime Membership card awarded me when I retired from the Bayou Girl Scout Council's administrative staff in Lafayette, Louisiana. I keep it in my wallet next to my driver's license.

I know that old maxims refer to wealth as being "in the clover," a saying that doesn't always mean a field of this plant in your yard symbolizes financial prosperity. However, I remain resistant to the idea of mowing my front yard patch and would search for a four-leaf specimen if I were assured that the hound next door wouldn't escape and throw me into the clover patch.

Photographs by Victoria Sullivan