M. Shane Pruett

The Point

We wandered the lawn, searching for the occasional four-leaf clover. Following a stem to its base you find there are numerous four-leaved branches, as this is simply a genetic variant. Dad joked about digging up the four-leaved plants, pruning out all three-leaved stems to breed up and sell as little pots of good luck. I could never make him understand that isn't how evolution, or even artificial selection works. He didn't care. That wasn't the point.

Walking across a field of clover, scanning absently and picking out the rare four-leaved stem, I think if we'd planted him in the ground, instead of in the waves, I'd have covered him in clover. Visiting, I'd faithfully remove all the three-leaved stems. Luck didn't do him much good in the end. I don't care. That isn't the point.

hum of bees
harvesting sunlight
sweet memories