f L O w E R c H i L d

All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness

thereof is as the flower of the field.

-Isaiah 40:6

Clover.

I love the smell of it. I love the look of it (even though it isn't supposed to be amongst the lawn...whoops).

It's fun to make clover crowns, and search for 4-leaf clovers. And to "pop" the clover, which I can only do maybe 1 in 10 tries. Most of the time it just falls at my feet.

Today, we plopped ourselves right down in the middle of a mass of it.

I sprawled Jiles across my Indian-style lap. The kids picked it while I tied it together to make a long strand of it. Jiles fell asleep. It takes a while to get the strand long enough to fit the circumference of a head. I love the wild look of it in windblown, especially braided, hair.

A field of purple-ish/pink clover grows over by the creek and I love to ride the 4-wheeler through it with the kids when it gets really tall, before Weston cuts it for hay. It's a pretty sight. But more so than looking at it, we drive through it just to inhale that very sweet, delicious fragrance of clover...mmm.

.

We all are usually sniffing, and blowing our noses for the rest of the day after we ride through it, but it's okay. Because it is worth it. Really it is.

Just sitting in it is nice.

{And it's great with toast.}