ah, the tease of clovers
I suppose ‘weed‘ is an arbitrary term, at one point there must have been a council of nicaea to decide what is canon plant and what is considered a weed to be excluded from the collection of accepted plants, and like such meeting I am sure there is controversy on all sides then and since, however, in the endeavor, I am addressing clovers, is this a cultural thing? a north american thing influenced by the influx of irish immigration in the earlier part of last century? I could investigate such things at length, but what’s the point really? the perception is there, meaning the reality is there under-laid, the lowly clover definitively stands taller than other weeds in the pantheon of plant-dom, it captures our imagination with something that can not be quantified… luck infused with lore.
luck, the word is a devil, a greased watermelon in a lake, so easily defined that every child could tell you on their tongue what luck is, but ask them, or anyone, to show it to you? or quantify it? so… I give you clovers, the chance, chance! luck’s mentor, for without chance there is no luck, always the chance of an empty hand, or a straight flush, there in the domain of luck, and somehow this power, this hope, this chance, this vote of the impossible is all in root, born into the fruit of a clover, magical, mystical, yet quite probable due to genetic variation, such a cauldron, such mythology mixed with just enough real world sense, and there you have it, the four leaf clover, hidden in the mundane of common growth we all know, like many other wonderful things, the promise, the prize, the random nature of found luck, the lottery of green, how many plants garner this esteem? (and am I only speaking of plants… or a little more?)