Remember the time when I was jealous of lovers? I would see them walk by and seethed with hatred and anger. I felt it unfair that I didn’t have anyone to pair off with. Now I can smile at them and can barely fight the urge to pinch their faces! There are two kinds of lovers I find the most cute: college student lovers and elderly lovers. The student lovers I don’t seem to notice that much until spring and fall starts — the two most popular times for walking through the nature reserve I call “my” backyard — I welcome them as signs of the season blossoming. I try to photograph them without spooking them. Yesterday I managed to catch a pair at a perfect moment. It was like netting a pair of butterflies without having to use a net…
It was the unusual warmth of an early March that brought all the lovers out. Many dotted the landscape, lounging on the freshly moist snow-melted ground, not bothered to get their jeans wet, using backpacks for pillows, and each other as blankets. As I walked all along the trails, I counted about twenty pairs of lovers, but only one lesbian couple who were sensible enough to have erected a two-person hammock. The young ladies were balanced perfectly inches above the ground, one of them cocooned completely at the other’s side, while the other kept her nose deep in a book. From faraway their bright orange half-moon wedge of a hammock looked like a slice of melon or, I thought at first glance, like someone had parked a kayak. How strange to see that, considering the ice hasn’t completely broken over the lake, I told myself. Every couple greeted me with a smile, except for the two on the bench I photographed. They were lost in the moment, silent, gripping each other’s hand, and their serene mood touched my heart.
It’s nice to love the lovers around me. I realize that without all these lovers in the world, there would be no life. No love = no life. If I hate and despair over being surrounded by lovers while I remain alone, I might as well be attracting to myself just more hate and despair. If there was no love in the world, I would have never been given life in the first place. It is best to be loving toward the lovers, just like I would when I see ducks in pairs, or deer chasing each other in the trees, and birds feeding each other in their mating rituals.
I was once in love like they were, too. I once walked through these same woods with my lovers. I have made love in several secret places tucked away beyond the trail. I am certain other lovers over the last twenty years have discovered their own outdoor love nests, too. Before the singing of the frogs, and before the branches break out in buds and blossoms, it is the lovers who signal the beginning of spring.
I welcome them as I embrace the sunlight as well as I swoon at the smell of rain-kissed earth and heavy sky… I don’t have to be part of a pair to be a lover. I’m in love with all these things. I cannot help it. I cannot resist writing and sharing with you this love. Thank you for letting me pour this love out — like a sudden burst of rain like the cloud that just moved over me just now that just lifted in a matter of minutes. An outpouring like the way I weep for joy and out of pain because it’s too much to contain or keep only to myself.