An idea of romance

I'll admit it. I signed up with an online dating website.

Wow. That was hard to admit. It shouldn't be. It's typical for our technology-driven society. Alas, it is strange with how social I am and how many people I know that I'm not having the dating life I desire. It is as though dating has been replaced with meaningless social events that lead to little (but physical relationships, it seems).

But the above is not the purpose of this post.

As part of the service, I am able send site generated messages back and forth with my matches to help us get to know one another. One of the boys I'm communicating with recently responded to the questions I sent him. One of my questions was "How would you spend a romantic evening with someone you've been dating for more than a year?"
His response: "Having a picnic and watching the sunset together. Maybe I will even muster up the little skill I have and make the picnic myself."

I watch the sunset a few times a week. In fact, I stopped by a friend's house tonight, and he suggested we move the conversation outside so that we could watch the sunset. This is the same friend who cooked a wonderfully delicious dinner for me and my sister while we watched the sunset, just before watching the fireworks from the accessible rooftop.

A friend. I watched the sunset with a friend.

Maybe this just means I live a very romantic life already.

Or maybe this boy lives in a part of the city where the sunset isn't easily seen, so watching the sunset is a rare occasion for him. In that case, working to enjoy that simple part of life is romantic.

Maybe this sunset viewing would involve a beautiful hike to get to the location and a hidden guitar that he "finds" and uses to play a little song for me.

Or maybe the simplicity of it all would make it so romantic.

I mean the sunset is a glorious thing every time I watch it. For example, I love catching the sunset over the Great Salt Lake on my way home from the Salt Lake Temple. On the nights when there are clouds, I like to stick around until after the sun has set. The way the dusk light reflects off the varying depths of the water make it appear almost as though there are white caps of cresting waves. It makes me feel like I'm back in Florida. I can even sometimes hear the waves crashing onto the shore.

His idea, although very simple, is romantic. But is it the kind of romance I'm looking for? Why am I left wanting for more?

Maybe I'm too consumed with looking for more than I already have. Maybe the best kind of relationship would involve spending time with someone doing the things I already do, the things I already love. I shouldn't be put off by his response. I should appreciate that we share that enjoyment of the simple things in life. Maybe I should make the search for love a little less complicated.

Nature at its finest

I like it when the storm lets up enough to allow for a most glorious sunset.

(Most of these pictures were taken from my car while driving down the interstate. One day they'll make a law against that as well.)

We got three or four inches of heavy, wet snow/hail last night.

It's May. I know.

By afternoon,

the weather warmed enough to melt it all off the roof.