The Foresthill Bridge turns 35 on Friday with its original coat of paint intact, a little worn in places but still glowing a powder green in the September sun.

But with the county targeting the bridge for repainting within four years, one of the area’s time-tested monuments to love – true or otherwise – will disappear under a layer of latex.

All the scrawls and scribblings on the bridge railing are due to vanish. And while some would quibble about the legality of the act of digging into the bridge itself with sharpened implements – this blog would argue there’s something poignantly intangible lost in the gain of that new, minty green covering. It’s not enough of a loss to call for the $26 million project to be scrapped. But it is enough, to mourn its eventual passing.

A walk along the south side – the one with the best view of the American River confluence and canyon stretching out into the distance – is a heady experience. It’s 730 feet straight down and, other than seeing the world from the top deck of a skyscraper in a large city, you’re not going to find that kind of view elsewhere in California.

It’s an inspiring place and for couples in love, the light-green surface on the metal railings, has been a canvas to inscribe their devotion and commemorate a shared elation.

Hundreds of inscriptions have been etched deep enough in the paint to reveal the orange undercoat. Oxidation over years or even decades has left those indelible messages for subsequent generations to ponder and etch around themselves with whatever sharp object is at hand. .

Moving toward the center of the span, the heart-rate-per-square-inch of pea-green metal surface increases, with initials, hearts and even names of lovers crowding out the casual obscenities and scrawled gang graffiti.

And while the attempts at bathroom-wall humor and the gang scribbles signal only loneliness and bitterness, the hundreds of combinations of initials and names of 35 years of amore is an inspirational peek into a point in people’s lives where they have been swept up in a moment of heightened joy.

On a pea-green bridge hovering over a canyon near Auburn, love has reigned supreme.

For “TG + JB Forever,” “Jerry + Sue 2/18/78,” “Kenneth + Donna 1979,” “Happy Valentines Day 98 Love AC,” “Gary + Mary Oct 75,” “Mike Mary 8-5-78,” “Greg + Mary 1980,” and all the others, whether that day on the Foresthill bridge is remembered or forgotten, time’s running out on your symbols of undying love.