Romance is not Picture Perfect

It’s dark and foggy outside my window, tempting me to set foot on the porch and feel the mist —

Noooooo! It’s cold out there!

Just one of those moments where a romantic notion is foiled by reality.

Winter wonderlands filled with frostbite. Hiking solo and getting lost. The elaborate ring presentation interrupted by the sound of eyes rolling. Sex on the beach with sand getting in very personal places.

Yet we still persist in trying to emulate impossible romantic scenarios as seen on TV (Hallmark Channel, I’m looking at you!) Instead, we should be finding romance in our own lives. Sharing traditions, having tea for two no matter that your tea set is two mismatched coffee cups and a pot you bought at a yard sale, telling stories in front of a fireplace (even if it’s not yours). It’s the presence of people together, or even a solo person and their dreams, that makes it romantic.

The fine moments you think about later are the romantic ones, the moments that gave you joy and connection and shared meaning. They do not need to be made picture-perfect, because pictures are not perfect in real life.

Fog

I wish I had seen the fog before it rose.

Fog smooths out all the edges of everyday life, softens the corners of the houses, tangles in the branches of trees, muffles the sounds of automobiles.

Fog obscures the view in front of us, defying even the illumination of headlights, and forces us to proceed cautiously.

Fog whispers secrets, like the witch in a fairy tale, and like the fairy tale, we can walk through the fog and never find the truth.

Fog reminds us that we can’t see everything. We can’t know everything.

The Winter Doldrums

I’m fighting the winter doldrums.

The polar vortex with its -40 F (-40 C) wind chill has passed, and the warmer temperatures have melted some of the snow, but we’re now shrouded in grey skies and thick fog. There is nothing romantic in February fog and muddied snow.

My life looks like the terrain outside — isolated and isolating, with no shiny stars left over from Christmas to focus on. No bad news, but no good news either. Nothing other than the occasional rejection on the query front. No new life in my basement grow room, although the good news is that I will be starting some seeds in a couple weeks — tomatoes and peppers and eggplant; white flowers for the moon garden (aka the non-edible portion of my garden).

It’s hard to feel optimistic right now. It’s hard to believe that beneath the snow and ice of my life, plants slumber waiting for their time to reach for the sky.