If you look carefully you will see that this is beyond a four leaf clover. Found this morning on a walk across the hills in celebration of sudden summer, it has put me in high, good humour.
Hoover and I had traipsed about the place revelling in the colours and looking out for deer. Who can spot them first? As long as they are standing still I might have a chance, but, too often, Hoover is prancing ahead and the flash of white under their tails as they turn to run is as good as a starting gun to an athlete.
This morning she smelled them before I had even realised they were a possibility. All I saw was her tail disappearing into the rape. I whistled. I called, cheerily. I shouted crossly. I wished my niece were standing beside me – I have just taught her to wolf whistle, and she tells me she can now do it very loudly. I stamped my foot. I stamped the other foot and shouted angrily. Silence waved across the sea of yellow. Somewhere off to the left a small bird laughed. I stomped upwards to see if the added height would enable me to glimpse any sign of anything, anywhere. And finally caught sight of my black, woolly friend, frisking back towards me from three fields away, tongue hanging out and a glint in her eye.
Over in the valley beyond I found this clover, Hoover snuffling contentedly at my side, all thought of deer abandoned.
You have to be very determined to see the fifth leaf in this photograph, but I promise you it is there, you can see its shadow.