I’ve had a really sick cat. (But he might be getting better.)  And I’m not beyond being a little superstitious, even when it’s a bit silly.  So today, when we got home from the vet, he went out to rest in the grass and I decided to join him as I often do.  Grass time is always important.

And while I was sitting there, amidst the clover, I thought I’d search for a four-leafed clover.  They’re not as uncommon as you might think, and I thought finding one could be a sign. Something to comfort me.  To convince me that everything would be ok, and that Buster isn’t on his ninth life just quite yet.  One like this one I found in about two minutes a month or so ago.

So I ruffled through the leaves, gazed past all the three-leafed clovers, looking for my prize.  And then something happened.  I got caught up in how pretty the raindrops looked on the leaves.  I ruminated about the cycle of life, right there before me, in fresh clover flowers and ones that had already browned and gone to seed.  I noticed how many shades of green there are, just in clover leaves.

And I realized I didn’t need to find a four-leafed clover today.  I already had my prize.

How often in life do we skip over all the beautiful everyday moments – the three-leafed clovers- while we’re waiting and searching, anticipating our prize – a big event, a vacation, something major to look forward to?  It’s fascinating, isn’t it?

How would life be different if we did a better job of noticing three-leafed clovers?  All the small miracles – all the beauty and magic that surrounds us.  How many millions of three-leafed clover moments are there – ready to be savored and appreciated?

What three-leafed clover moments have you noticed lately?  I would love to hear about them.  Share yours in the comments, if you like.

P. S. As I wrap up this post much later in the evening, I’m happy to report that the sweet cat has indeed revived, yet again.  And I am savoring every 3-leafed moment with him.