Four Leaf Clovers and Small Bright Things
Four leaf clovers tend to take center stage in March. For many, they are tied to St. Patrick’s Day, sports, or seasonal decoration. For me, they are something quieter. A reminder of my dad.
My father had an uncanny ability to find four leaf clovers hidden among fields of ordinary three. We would be walking along, and suddenly he would bend down, smiling, and there it was. The whole family knew he always kept one in his wallet. A small token of luck, tucked away like a secret.
Clovers make me think about more than luck. They remind me of his love of mathematics and design. He was an engineer for a major aeronautical defense company, working with precision machines most people would never encounter. It was serious work, the kind that demands discipline, patience, and exactness.
But he also had a playful curiosity about materials and patterns.
At one point, he worked with an ultra-thin film, lighter than air. Where others might have only seen its function, he saw something else entirely. He would take pieces of that shimmering material and use it as tissue paper when wrapping gifts.
That contrast stayed with me. The careful engineer who also delighted in something iridescent, catching the light like a rainbow.
I think that balance lives in all of us. Beneath the routines and responsibilities, there is still a sense of wonder waiting for something small to bring it to the surface.
Lately, I’ve been dealing with more health issues and scans. Days like that can feel heavy. Thinking about my dad lightens them. My health concerns began after he passed, but I can still picture him nearby, trying to lift the mood with some unexpected, brightly wrapped gift.
Life can become dull when every day is approached the same way. Sometimes nothing arrives to shift it, and that’s when you have to go looking for it yourself.
For me, it’s often something simple. I walk through the backyard and listen to the birds. I stand in the sun for a moment. I watch the cats moving along the fence lines, or the insects going about their work. Life is endlessly interesting if you take the time to notice the little things.
If the day is gray, I shift the mood another way. I put on Eddie Rabbitt and sing along to I Love a Rainy Night.
Small bright things are everywhere, if we allow ourselves to see them.
And sometimes, if you’re lucky, you might even find a four leaf clover.