The Literary Gardener – March 2016
For each petal on the shamrock this brings a wish your way. Good health, good luck, and happiness for today and every day. ~Irish blessing
According to my family tree, I’m one-sixteenth Irish. One day, I’d like to visit the “land of my people;” however, until then, I’ll wear green and buy a few shamrocks in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day.
Actually, the plants I buy at the local garden shops are “false shamrock,” or Oxalis acetosella, a species of wood sorrel. Its cousin, Oxalis oregano, grows vigorously in the redwood forests off U.S. Route 199 on the way to Crescent City, CA. Jerry and I went hiking there one day and almost couldn’t tear our eyes away from the majestic trees that grow more than 300 feet tall and 20 feet in diameter. When we finally looked down—way down—there was a most enchanting garden of “false shamrock” carpeting the understory of rhododendron and fern. I was more than half expecting to see a few leprechauns playing hide-and-seek among the redwoods.
Most Irish consider the “true” shamrock to be lesser clover (Trifolium dubium) or white clover (Trifolium repens); in fact, “shamrock” derives from the Irish word, “seamrog” for “little clover.” Legend has it that Saint Patrick, a 5th century missionary, was successful in converting pagan Celts to Christianity by comparing the familiar three-leaf clover to the Holy Trinity. Saint Patrick’s good fortune began the Anglo-Saxon association between the shamrock and good luck.
The ancient Druids, however, had long held the three-leaf clover in great esteem. They used the shamrock to charm away evil spirits that were thought to be most active around March 17, at the end of winter and the cusp of spring. Celtic brides tucked a shamrock into their shoes to bring a long and happy marriage and a prosperous life, the latter symbolization stemming from the fact that clover was used to fatten cattle for market. Even more rare, the four-leaf clover was said to bestow the ability to see fairies, but beware a clover with more than four leaflets as it was considered a bad omen.
In the Victorian language of flowers, clover means “industry,” because where there is flowering clover, butterflies and bees can also be found busily feeding on its nectar. In addition to good luck, the shamrock symbolizes light-heartedness because one needn’t worry while under its protection. In fact, the shamrock and “wearing of the green” have been symbols of Ireland since the 18th century, when rival Irish militia used them as political emblems.
My favorite shamrock story, though, involves Saint Patrick. It seems that along his missionary travels in Ireland, Pat visited an inn where he was served a drink of whiskey that was a disappointing light pour. The saint took it as an opportunity to teach a lesson on generosity. Telling the innkeeper that the devil lived in the wine cellar feeding on his selfishness, Saint Patrick advised the man to change his ways to get rid of the demon. Some time later, Saint Patrick returned to the inn, this time finding the owner filling his patrons’ glasses to overflowing. Proclaiming the demon banished, St. Patrick told the happy crowd from that day forth, everyone should have a drink of whiskey to celebrate his feast day. Not surprisingly, the custom is still quite popular today. It’s called “drowning the shamrock” because a three-leaf clover is floated in a whiskey glass before the celebrant downs the shot.
I sure wish I had known about drowning the shamrock when Jerry and I visited the redwood forests and marveled at the native Oxalis. I’m sure if I had only observed this time-honored tradition, I would have seen plenty of leprechauns that day!
I doubt poet Ella Higginson (1862-1940) knew about drowning the shamrock either, but the Oregon-raised writer nonetheless drew international attention to the beauty of the Pacific Northwest in her award-winning fiction, poetry, and essays. Higginson wrote Four-Leaf Cover: A Little Book of Verse in 1901. One of the poems in the volume is called “Where the Four-Leaf Clovers Grow:”
I know a place where the sun is like gold.
And the cherry blooms burst with snow;
And down underneath is the loveliest nook,
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.
One leaf is for hope, and one for faith.
And one is for love you know;
But God put another in for luck–
If you search, you will find where they grow.
But you must have hope, and you must have faith;
You must love and be strong’ and so
If you work, if you wait, you will find the place
Where the four-leaf clovers grow.