Ellis and the Clover Patch

Ellis had found the biggest clover leaf in the meadow, and it looked just right for his sister. It was broad and green, with three round parts like tiny bunny ears. He held it carefully between his paws.

“Avery will like this one,” he said.

The sunny afternoon was growing late. Bees hummed among the little white flowers, and the tall grass leaned over the narrow paths. Ellis wanted to bring home clover for himself and Avery before the meadow grew dark. He tucked the big leaf into his small basket and began searching for more.

Avery was waiting near the old oak, where the rabbits liked to meet. She was a little younger than Ellis, with a cream-colored spot on her nose.

“Are you bringing a snack?” she called.

“I’m collecting clover for both of us,” Ellis answered. “I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

Avery smiled. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Ellis hopped through the grass, picking clover leaves one at a time. He chose some with fat, round leaves and some with narrow ones. He put each into his basket, making sure the biggest leaf stayed on top.

As he worked, he heard a rustle near a patch of daisies. A breeze slipped across the meadow, stirring the flower heads and bending the thin grass stems. Ellis watched the white petals bob. Then the breeze reached his basket.

He pressed his paws over the top. “Not my clover!” he said, laughing.

The breeze paused. Ellis peered into his basket. The leaves were still there, snug under his paws. He looked around for one more patch, just beyond a low hillock. A cluster of clover peeked out from the grass.

“Just a few more,” he told himself. He set the basket down beside a smooth stone and hopped toward the green patch. The sun warmed his back, and the meadow smelled like grass and flowers. Ellis picked carefully, thinking of Avery’s happy face when he brought the snack. Then the breeze returned, a little stronger, rustling the grass behind him.

Ellis turned at the sound. The breeze swept through the meadow, lifting loose clover leaves from the basket and sending them skittering over the grass. Some caught on flower stems. Others tumbled past the smooth stone.

“Wait!” Ellis cried, hopping after them.

He chased one leaf to a daisy, then another to a tuft of grass. But each time he reached for a leaf, the breeze nudged it farther away. At last the air grew still. Ellis looked in the basket. Only the big clover leaf remained, tucked against one corner.

His ears drooped. “One leaf is not much for two,” he murmured. “Avery will have to share this.”

He picked up the basket. For a moment, he wondered whether to keep the biggest leaf for himself. Then he remembered something from earlier that afternoon. When Ellis had scraped his paw on a rough root, Avery had stopped her play. She had brought him a cool leaf to rest against the sore spot and stayed beside him until he felt better. She had not hurried away, even when her friends called.

Ellis looked at the leaf in his basket. “Avery would share with me,” he said. “I can share with her.”

He held the big leaf gently in his paws and started toward the old oak. On the way, he passed the stump where the rabbits sometimes sat to watch beetles crawl. Something green caught his eye beside it. There, tucked behind a fan of fern leaves, was another patch of clover. It was small, but the leaves were fresh and plentiful.

Ellis’s ears lifted. “Aha!”

He set the basket down well away from the breeze and gathered a few leaves from the patch. He left plenty growing in the earth. Then he picked up the basket and carried the big leaf carefully to Avery.

She was waiting beneath the oak, just as she had promised.

“I brought you the biggest one,” Ellis said, placing it in her paws. “And I found another patch by the stump. Come see!”

Avery’s eyes widened. “You saved it for me?”

“For us,” Ellis said. “There’s enough to choose a few each.” He led her toward the stump, carrying the last leaf in the basket beside them.

At the stump, Avery crouched beside the clover patch. A fern frond rested over one edge, making a little green roof. She lifted it gently so the leaves would not bend.

“Oh, look at all these,” she said. “The breeze missed this spot.”

Ellis nodded. “We can each pick a few. We should leave the rest to grow.”

They chose their leaves slowly. Avery found two with round, even parts. Ellis picked a small one and a larger one, then set his biggest leaf beside them. The patch stayed green and leafy, ready for another day.

They sat together on the stump. Avery broke her big leaf in half and offered a piece to Ellis.

“You brought it for me,” she said. “Now we can share it.”

Ellis smiled and took the piece. The clover tasted fresh and sweet. They nibbled their leaves while the meadow settled around them. The bees had gone back to their homes, and the daisies stood quiet among the grass. Above the trees, the last bright part of the afternoon slipped away, and long shadows stretched across the path.

Avery leaned against her brother’s shoulder. “I’m glad you found the patch.”

“I’m glad you waited,” Ellis said. “And I’m glad you helped me earlier.”

Avery gave his paw a small squeeze. “We’re good at helping each other.”

They finished their little snack, taking small bites and leaving no crumbs on the stump. Ellis folded the empty basket over his arm. Avery walked close beside him, and together they followed the familiar path toward home.

The first evening shadows lay across the meadow, but the way was easy to see beneath the trees. Ellis and Avery hopped side by side, talking softly about the clover patch and the funny way the breeze had carried the leaves. Soon the oak and the stump were behind them, and their cozy burrow waited ahead. They reached home together, full of clover and glad to be near each other.