Here are some thoughts I wrote down back in October, edited slightly:
Tonight I read to the sprout four Wendell Berry poems: The Sycamore, The Peace of Wild Things, Except, and Sowing. Apparently she was as rowdy for the readings as she was for much of the rest of the day, though I couldn’t feel it very well.
Berry has another poem, which I did not read aloud, called February 2, 1968:
In the dark of the moon, in flying snow, in the dead of winter,
war spreading, families dying, the world in danger,
I walk the rocky hillside, sowing clover.
One internet denizen named Jeff Hawkins writes that the poem “directs me to the honor and effectiveness of small, wholesome, congruent-with-nature's-life acts amidst the clamor of cries for big solutions.” Berry himself has also written of sowing clover that the act “enrich[es] the earth” and is “the beginning of green,” a way of “mingl[ing] in the fate of the world.”
Growing up, clover stood out to me for its simple beauty. My family had dishes featuring a pattern of clover-leaves and -blossoms, and I could smell freshness and spring when singing the Delaware state song:
Oh the hills of dear New Castle
And the smiling vales between
Where the corn is all in tassel
And the meadowlands are green
Where the cattle crop the clover
And its breath is in the air
Oh the sun is shining over
Our beloved Delaware!
The statist message didn’t totally stick, but pastoral appreciation did. Clover made me (and my family's guinea pigs) happy. And aside from these small happinesses, it seems to represent to me a successful coexistence and cohabitation of nature and culture.
I like clover (Clover) as a name. I think it is fitting for our daughter who, I am certain, will enrich the earth.
Songs were sung, pictures were taken, and there was much oooing and aaaing. Madeline was rarely without at least one pair of arms to hold her. Toward the end of the day, she got tired:
... but not so tired that we couldn't pose for a few pictures of the nuclear family. The light was low by then, but here's one:
Today we got the Sprout ready to meet two of her grandparents. Before being bathed, she hung around in her diaper for a while. (She also managed to scratch her face in a rare opportunity without cuffs over her hands.) When the grandparents came, it was already dark and she was very sleepy. She readily received their lavishments; tomorrow in the daylight there will undoubtedly be a more awake meeting and plenty of photos taken. (Sadly, no pictures with grandparents yet.)
Next we went around the block. The Sprout tried to take everything in, but the world outside the apartment is a complicated place.
Last night none of us slept well (cry, diaper, feed, cry, diaper, feed, cry, diaper, feed &c.). So today, after a morning pediatric appointment, we're conked out in bed. The sun may be shining outside, but rest is the Dr.'s order for now. Madeline has the skill set of an all-pro sleeper; I, on the other hand, need to put down the laptop and pick up a book now.
