For many people, a weed is a weed and it’s unwanted and needs to die. Now that I have my own yard and gardens (and a much more expansive understanding of the ecosystem), I have a much more complicated relationship with weeds. Like many other avid gardeners, I feel a weed is just a plant out of place. I don’t even like the word “weed” - I think it’s kind of speciesist.

But without going too deep into the eco-philosophy, I am faced with “out-of-place plants” every growing season. For example, the ubiquitous dandelion. We pick our dandelions with a Weed Hound (if you don’t have one, and you have dandelions you want to get rid of, I highly recommend one). Our daughters have said it was unfair in the past when we’ve passed yards filled with dandelions. They love making crowns and necklaces from the bright, golden blooms - and better yet, making wishes before blowing on the seed heads. Still, dandelions aren't very comfortable to walk on with bare feet or roll around in, so we opt for grass instead of a yard full of dandelions. It really has to be one or the other.

In our gardens, there’s also a battle with tree propagation - the pods and helicopters drop by the pound and any open soil becomes a breeding ground. These are ripped from the ground as soon as they sprout. I know there’s a big environmental push to plant more trees and I completely understand how important trees are and I love trees. I just really have no space to spare for any more trees in my small, urban patch of Earth.

But one of the most difficult “weeds” I have to deal with is clover, which grows rampant in our yard, choking out our favorite perennials. I used to yank it all. Then, one glorious summer day, my oldest daughter, who was four then, came up to me chewing, with a fistful of clover in her hand. Her face was literally glowing with enjoyment. “Mmmmmm,” she moaned, “sweet, juicy clover.”

My daughter has been a clover-hunter ever since. There’s a certain variety with a purple-hued leaf that’s her favorite.

Our weeds have become her salad bar. Over time, I’ve grown to appreciate the look of clover. Maybe my daughter’s bliss combined with the legend of the four-leaf clover and the childhood dream of finding one has converged to create a new affinity for the plant. It is quite lovely. Really, is this a weed?


The simple, rounded foliage creates a nice balance to the rocks. They're really not drastically different from the creeping thyme I've been planting as a ground cover. A similar aesthetic.

Anyway, my daughter's almost nine now and she’s still a clover aficionado. She has also taught her younger sister to forage for clover and the sweet taste of success. And, while I used to think it a bit odd, I’ve increasingly seen clover on entrees at gourmet restaurants. In fact, my husband just took me out for dinner the other night for my birthday and I found it on top of my marvelous goat cheese ravioli with pine nuts and fava beans. Mmmmmm. It was sweet, juicy clover, with a delicate freshness that counterbalanced the other flavors magically.

A gentle reminder: Kids will put almost anything in their mouths. Start teaching them young, very young, that they should ask you before sampling any plant, "weed" or otherwise.

So, is clover a weed? Not to our family.

But I’m not sure about this:


Seriously, anyone know what this is?

Find more from Janelle at Healthy Child Healthy World, WebMD, MomsRising and on Twitter.