On Friday night I was sat on a beach in Bournemouth, and a mid-twenties couple were playing frisbee a hundred yards or so away from me. As is the way when something is moving and one's mind is drifting, the two of them retained my attention for some time. They were moderately competent at the frisbee itself, catching probably half of each others' throws. He was dressed for the beach, with knee-length shorts which had the bottom few inches wet - presumably from paddling or retrieving a wayward frisbee. She had long blonde hair and a full-length black sleeveless dress, and looked surprisingly elegant for the circumstances.
When they stopped playing frisbee, which they did relatively soon, they walked up to the shoreline and he put an arm round her waist and pulled her towards him. Her back was curved, a concave shape as she was partly supported by him and they began kissing.
Just at that moment the clouds parted and the last rays of the day illuminated just the last six feet or so of beach, including them and Boscombe pier behind. They probably didn't even notice, so consumed were they with their seemingly-new passion. It was quite the most beautiful image I've seen in many a long year. Lighting being notoriously hard to capture, I didn't attempt to grab a camera, but just took in that moment, as indeed did they. They walked off the beach shortly after, not even sparing a glance for anyone or anything else, so consumed were they with each other.
Did I ever feel like that? Without any chemical aid? It's so hard to remember.