White heather is considered lucky

Setting:
A crisp autumn morning in Edinburgh. Two friends — Fiona, a cheerful believer in old Scottish traditions, and Liam, a logical science teacher — are walking through a weekend market filled with flowers, handmade crafts, and coffee stalls.

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Fiona: (holding up a small bouquet) Look at this, Liam! White heather! You have to admit, it’s beautiful. And you know what they say — it brings good luck. I think I’ll buy it.

Liam: (grinning) Ah, the legendary “lucky heather.” You and your superstitions, Fiona. You’ve said the same thing about black cats, rainbows, and that horseshoe above your door.

Fiona: And you’ll notice I’ve had a pretty good run of luck since hanging that horseshoe! No flat tyres, no lost keys, no disastrous first dates. Coincidence? I think not.

Liam: Or maybe… just careful parking, a key hook by the door, and finally using that dating app with actual humans.

Fiona: (laughs) You’re impossible. But white heather really does have meaning. My gran used to say it brings protection and happiness. She’d tuck a sprig into her coat before travelling anywhere.

Liam: Your gran probably also boiled nettles for “healing energy.” People used to think thunder was caused by angry gods, too. Doesn’t mean we should keep believing it.

Fiona: Oh, come on, it’s part of our heritage! Queen Victoria herself wore white heather in her wedding bouquet because it symbolised good fortune. That can’t be a coincidence either.

Liam: Or maybe she just liked the colour contrast against her dress. Royal fashion doesn’t usually come with scientific peer review.

Fiona: You always ruin the romance of it. It’s not about science — it’s about believing in something nice. A little charm against all the randomness in life.

Liam: Fair point. But you realise it’s just a plant, right? No mysterious particles of luck floating around it. If luck came from flowers, florists would all be billionaires by now.

Fiona: Maybe they are — you just don’t read the right news. (winks)

Liam: (laughs) You’re incorrigible. So if you think it brings luck, how’s this for an experiment: I’ll carry purple heather, you carry white, and we’ll see who has the better week.

Fiona: Deal! But don’t be surprised when I win a raffle or find a tenner on the pavement.

Liam: And if I win, you’ll finally admit that luck is just probability and coincidence wrapped in folklore.

Fiona: We’ll see. Oh, and when your train’s late or your toast lands butter-side down, don’t come crying to me — I’ll be too busy basking in my lucky aura.

Liam: (chuckling) If you start glowing, I’ll call the physicists.

Fiona: You’ll call them anyway — to explain how I’m so lucky.

(They walk off, still laughing, Fiona clutching her white heather proudly while Liam shakes his head in amused disbelief.)