Something Green, For Love

You could call it premature spring fever. Things are still pretty wintry, pretty gray. But their hearts know no degrees below zero, no time-line for germination. Love has blossomed and will not wait six more weeks for the official OK.

Love makes them silly -- they climb fences, walk for hours, jump rocks, sit close. Waterfalls are an invitation to check water-repellent coats and standing beneath, giddy, they just know this love will be amazing. Love rides porch swings, it plays footsies under the table, it gives piggy-back rides. Love is unaware of those around.

And then he asks her -- will you be my one and only? Would you call me boyfriend?

They didn't ask St. Patrick's permission, but every year his holiday rolls around, the memories spin too...thoughts of early love, thoughts of adventure.

Six years ago, not quite spring, love declared.

He buys roses, five days early, because love doesn't have time-lines. Or maybe because he forgot. But we'll celebrate then, we'll celebrate tomorrow and the next day. Even if all we do is eat green vanilla pudding.

Happy Early Dating Anniversary, Hunny