Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Living in Clover
It was mid-October. It was rainy and cold. But these two clover had stayed open to accommodate these poor bees. It is a sweet thought, but actually, I have always had slightly negative feelings about bees. I suspect bees of being frauds. Remember “The Birds and the Bees!” Phooey! That story gets a lot of kids off in the wrong direction. But my real complaint is that we had a lawn full of clover when I was very young. One Fourth of July I was running around the yard barefoot. I stepped on one of the bees that enjoyed the clover. I had to sit on the front stoop with my swollen foot in ice and toss firecrackers from there all day. No cherry bombs in mail boxes, no running a bunch of crackers up a kite string to go off in the sky. And no chasing the cat around with the little crackers watching the hair on his tail stand up. Never forgot that.
But I also resent the bum deal that clover seems to have been given. Sixty or sixty five years ago suburban homes had lawns of half clover. It crowded out weeds, it stayed low, and it was attractive. On the afternoon before a date, I would go out scouting. I was pretty good at finding four leaf clover. So I would find one under a street light and mark it with a twig or such. As we walked to the movies, I would suddenly stop and say, “Wait, I think I saw something.” I would lean down, pick the four leaf clover and present it to the girl.
Then the faddish desire to have your lawn look like a golf course green came on the scene. Golf courses couldn’t abide clover because it was too easy to lose a ball in it. So the forerunners of Scott’s and other super fertilizer companies started including herbicides in their fertilizer mixes. Clover was no longer fashionable. There went a great courting trick.