It Means Love

 

This pile of twigs and pine cones at my doorstep means love. It means that two little boys who stole my heart were in my home yesterday. It means that their chubby flip-flopped feet shuffled down my street as they reminded me that we must stay close to the edge and away from cars. It's become a tradition. I follow because they know where to go. On the corner one street over is a tree that showers the lawn below with twigs and pine cones and pods for tiny hands to gather and big curious eyes to inspect.
Mom comes, they say their goodbyes, I wave and look down. Every time, I find a pile of the nature they gathered left for me next to the watering can on my porch.  It means love.