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I got to thinkin’…

Spring is getting too familiar. I walked by a daffodil the other day and it was still hanging in there. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t as impressed. Not because the bloom was off the rose. It was because the daffodil was becoming life’s backdrop – like in a play where you start forgetting about a well-done set by mid-act because your mind is on the plot.
And it’s a shame. Because a daffodil is a daffodil. The beauty had begun to fade in the eye of this beholder, but not in eye of its Maker.
The same thing happened this morning. I passed by a window and the forsythia was half green and half yellow. It made me a little sad; like I had missed Spring in its glory.
Later, a niece visited. She came over and gave me a peck on my cheek. But I remember when she was younger, the kisses were sweeter and the hugs a little more lengthy and swingy. 
I know we can’t live on all the highs of life. I know we’d appreciate flowers even less if they were out too long. 
But peril lurks when love grows common; a dangerous intimacy.
God forbid.
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