THERE'S NO ACOUNTING FOR TASTE

At least I never thought those little candy Valentine's Day hearts had much culinary satisfaction. Not like Peeps. Or Sweet Tarts. But it was all about the message.

So what makes your heart melt? For me, first of all it's anyone who would think I made their heart melt. I mean, that's quite a lot of like to melt another's heart. And does it have to be romantic? I mean, can seeing a hummingbird get juice from an aloe plant, yellow even, just on the other side of my window as I sit typing this entry? He wasn't the first morning visitor either. A large woodpecker shook several stalks as he lighted and stuck his pointy beak into the same aloe.

Roadrunners maybe don't melt my heart, but I really like to see them on area golf courses (we have none in our citified 'hood) but I haven't heard one, "Meep, meep" yet. I have also seen coyotes, although none ever on the prowl for roadrunners.

Little kids can melt our hearts, and they don't have to do or say anything. They don't even have to be among the people we know. They have the melting ability just by being adorable in appearance, actions, or words. Like pets, especially puppies. I wouldn't call it melting, but new puppy breath, when the roof of their mouths is still black, is pretty neat.

I don't think sports' thrills, such as a ninth inning home run or last second shot, qualify as melting hearts. Pumping them up or breaking, but no melting.

Good conversations, good moments, good sermons all warm hearts, but it takes something special to melt one.

The woodpecker's back shaking five stalks. If I opened my window I could touch him. He's that close. And now he's gone. He didn't stay long enough to melt. But sometimes that's the key to melting, too.