A Meditation of Sorts

Clover and Blossoms

Yesterday on my morning walk with Butters the air was infused with the heady scent of clover blossoms. Clover always causes me to linger, but this morning even more and the  scent had me plucking blossoms and inhaling deeply.

I reflected on clover and my love for it and on a past weekend that I spent planting and mulching at my sister in laws house.  The day was not hurried, I was not hurried, there was no agenda and I often found myself stooped over searching in the clover as we talked and worked. Of course there were bees to be seen, a tiny frog discovered in the mulch, and all the signs around us that spring was reveling in her own beauty. I found myself thinking of other such times as well, at my parents and along walks with Butters and with Alan where clover had figured prominently in the memory of the time.

The clover causes a shift in my mindset.  For me searching in the clover is the pause of gratitude and the delight to be found when we look to explore and revel in the magic the universe so readily offers. It a purposeful pause, a choice to slow down and to notice the details, a meditation of sorts in its own way. Whether or not I ever actually find four leaf clovers does not matter, I am always left with a sense of peace and contentment.