Several years ago, my husband and I went poking around at a garden center. I saw this corkscrew willow and fell in love with it. Charlie didn’t see the appeal, but he bought it for me and planted it out front.
Over the years, he’s watered it through droughts, pruned it, brushed it off and propped it up when heavy snows threatened to break it.
I still love my tree. I love it more and more and more because, the longer it lives, the more it looks like love.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: What, outside of the standard lovey-dovey stuff, looks like love to your main character?