As evidenced by many of the poems collected in Silence in the Snowy Fields (1962), Robert Bly looked toward the landscapes of Minnesota and often saw:
Box-elder trees, box-elder bugs
Perhaps not the most romantic list.
And yet, the verses he called "Love Poem" go like this:
"When we are in love, we love the grass,
And the barns, and the light poles,
And the small mainstreets abandoned all night."
And to me, this seems exactly, simply, accurate. When we love—whether a person or a place—there is possibility for beauty in everything.