“The secret to finding four leaf clovers,” she tells me, “is this- If you look for them, they disappear, but if you DON’T look for them, they DON’T disappear.” She should know, she finds them all the time. "I’ve been not looking for them my whole life," I tell her. “Maybe you haven’t been not looking hard enough.” “Another way to find them,” she tells me, pitying my misfortune, “Is to wait until you feel really lucky- like I just did when that moth let me touch her. Then, you KNOW one is nearby and you find it.” I smile at her, so sincere with sunny freckles, her eyes squinting in the light. I’m feeling so fortunate there’s no need to bother even looking down at the meadow of shamrocks that must be there now, sprouting between my toes.