We started the day trying not to gloat about how severely cold it turned back East.  After all, our hearts are close to friends there.

But red buds now adorn the 20-foot deciduous trees surrounding our aesthetically agreeable four-unit building.  West-coast designers use such low-impact trees so their fiery-red leaves will descend onto the constantly green grass in the fall so the sun blazes upon dwellings during the chilly winds of winter.  By contrast, born again leaves surge through the trees during warm summers and ward ol’ Sol away.

I strolled onto the patio to settle onto our recently acquired glider and absorb some unseasonably warm Oregon valley winter sun, commenting absentmindedly to Alice, “You’re always so open with me.”

Obviously, I was talking before putting my thinking cap on, something I’m prone to do when I favor stream-of-consciousness.  “Why did I say that?” I worried.

Alice responded, “Whom else would I be open with?  You know all sides of me, as I know all sides of you.

“There are people – such as best friends, relatives – that we love or who love us, but they only know one side, maybe two sides.  You and I know each other intimately, and that covers a multitude of sides.”

Our conversation must have been a perfect reflection of Spring, because why else would love become a hot topic?

As we approach our seventh 60-degree-plus day in the Northwest for 2015, we look in horror at the 5-below-zero temperature in Doylestown, PA forecast after a 2-below-zero thermometer reading there last Sunday.  No wonder Alice thanks St. Jude and St. Joseph, whom she planted in the ground before we left.

How would we have afforded the cost of heating and eating if we had stayed back East, notwithstanding the misery index?

Perhaps that’s why talk of love and a Spring yet to come fill our luxurious days of unseasonable warmth and shared affection.