It is scrumptious to be around newlyweds. They sprinkle kisses around like sugar on oatmeal, or salt on an ear of corn. It spices things up just to be near them. Their hands are eager to clasp, and hold on as if the blood circulates through both bodies on each rotation. Or maybe the mysterious force that is traveling is less visible but just as life giving. 

Personally I think it is magic. Magic in that we humans can't concoct it out of our own mettle, no matter how much we intend it. God steps in with the same expertise that transforms a freckle sized seed and a clod of dirt into a dogwood tree, or cracks open the heart of a mother when she gazes into the eyes of her newborn. People can't usually find the switch that turns on the geyser of devotion that spurts out of every pore when we fall in love or birth a baby. But Someone turns it on. Turning it off is hard too. Just try blocking the flow of water from a fire hydrant and you get the idea. 

The other day a mother whose premature baby is in the NICU for a few months came close to skipping a single day of visiting him. Then she burst into tears and her husband turned the car around. She simply had to be near him. 

I like that newlyweds have enough joy to spread around to undeserving bystanders. Babies too, divvy out innocence without depleting their own abundance. 

It makes me curious about what it will be like when we are all as receptive as infants and starry eyed sweethearts.