I used to like clover. I enjoyed the pretty white and purple flowers and would spend more than a little time searching for the lucky four-leaves. I even ate the purple clover. (The white ones don’t taste as nice.) Then I decided to tackle this:
See, at some point in the past, our lawn has been landscaped, and there was a patch of something in a circle in the front yard. Since I didn’t know what it was, I decided to let things grown until I could clearly tell what needed to be pulled and what needed to stay.
Last weekend I decided it was probably clear enough what needed to stay that I could start pulling weeds. After a couple hours of pulling, I had made some progress, but I was starting to realize the magnitude of my task.
See, what I didn’t realize was that clover roots are a veritable network of misery beneath their pretty surface. (Pull up a clover plant by its roots sometime; you’ll see what I mean.) In other words, it was not easy to pull, and its roots ended up being so intertwined with everything else that I ended up pulling up all my wildflowers too because of the hassle of trying to keep everything separate.
On the bright side, I discovered I have lovely, dark, rich soil.
Three afternoons of weed pulling later, I did eventually manage to get it all cleared out. (I also pulled up three maple saplings in the process that had volunteered to grow in the middle of my flower patch.)
A few days later, I witnessed the reward for my hard work.
In the end, it was worth it. I guess I don’t hate you anymore, clover. At least not until next year.
Have any great gardening tips or stories? I welcome them in the comments!