Rattling my philosiphies of life.

At least how they relate to the sport of four leaf hunting. I have enlisted the help of my two young girls and have begun training them to seek them out. It has been raining a lot and with the lawnmower still broken I have been taking advantage of the opportunity to search through the jungles of clover that have cropped up over the last few weeks. We expect to receive a complaint from the city any day now, but in the meantime the growth is lush and I have no complaints whatsoever. I could continue searching, and what a treasure it would be to find something grown as large as these! Growing ankle high and tall end dense enough to hide small rabbits as they graze (though not hidden well enough to escape the jaws of young Timmy, I am afraid). Still, the inevitability of the chore of cutting down this growth to the acceptable height as indicated by city ordinances adds a sense of urgency to the search, leaching out all pleasurable aspects of it.

Today is a good day, in between bouts of rain and hot weather so I brought the girls outside with me to try to clear up some of this jungle mess. Leave the mowing to another member of the family, but at least we can clear some weeds from our neglected flowerbeds in preparation for some sort of intentional growth. We got to work. The earth was soft. Bugs crawled out. Good bugs. As I worked I focused in on the spaces of earth that were just growing before my eyes as I pulled out rocks and leaves and tossed it all aside. I was surprised to find exposed a single clover, who just narrowly escaped my deadly grip. This single clover had four leaves on it! I called the girls over to see, and gently plucked it and brought it inside. I am beginning to wonder though, what exactly is the purpose of the plucking? It feels so violating and wrong these days. Where do I need to carry it to? How could I do such a thing without considering the consequences or have the tiniest inkling of a plan for its demise? I rushed it inside, thinking that the deed had been done, and at the very least I could prevent it from being trampled or blown away while I think about the future of today's find.

As I am getting back to the business of weed pulling and herding children, bug saving and dandelion blowing, I am perplexed by this nagging feeling that things are different just now. This is not at all how it happens or how I feel. This is not a great trophy or accomplishment. This was the senseless murder of a helpless four leaved plant for the purpose of my own sick sense of pleasure and pride. Above all else this represents how today my philosophies of life and how they relate to the art of four leaf clover hunting have been compromised. You see, this clover I found today, I did not search for it. It appeared. It surprised. How can I find in life these things I do not search for? How serendipitous should I expect all other aspects of my life to be? Is this a fluke, or a sign of change? A catalyst to usher in the shift of the energies that rule my universe out of my own two hands and back into the hands of fate? Is my life no longer under my own control?

I may just take a break from the search. May just let fate hold the wheel for a while. We'll see how it goes.

In the meantime I found a lovely resting spot for today's clover.