Early Days by the Window, A Little Love at My Fingertips

First love is as pure as a dewdrop, as passionate as a flash of lightning, and as changeable as a summer sky. It is like an unripe fruit, standing alone on a branch in early spring, untouched by dust and still carrying the fragrance of sunlight. Memories are like old photographs tucked away for years, as clear as yesterday, an everlasting longing in the heart.