March is upon us; the early blossoms are sprouting from their twiggy branches, and the fields are greening with lush grasses and young clover. Soon, my backyard will be hopping with rabbits, and a few young deer will eventually appear and provide quick sprints of joy for my dog, Riley, each time she steps out for a walk. One of my simple pleasures is relaxing in a cool pad of clover, reflecting on my day and enjoying the new evening sun after a day on Main Street. After a few years of running my fingers through many hundreds of clusters of clover in my yard, I have resigned myself that there are none of the four-leaf variety taking up residence there. Truth be known, I feel lucky even in their absence, which has me generally questioning this whole “luck” thing.