I am Titanium.

I love to write my reflection's posts in the early mornings or late in the evenings, when there is that certain stillness in a day. Currently, the white nights offer a late evening tranquility, which is saturated by tangelo skies and the absence of darkness, prolonging our days considerably.
Additionally, the weather gods have granted us our first summer week of the year, bestowing upon us uncanny hot days and warm nights. These enable me to sit out here, on our terrace, in the silver twilight, listening to the soft sound of crickets and watching the illuminated, albeit obstructed horizon in my view. The air is saturated by the perfumed scent of blooming lilac and moist with dew.

In a few days, May will end.  I have mixed feelings about the conclusion of this last spring month. In my eyes it is one of the best months of the year, as it is so defined by life and growth, by vibrant colours and by light. It carries so much optimism and a promise of the best to come and usually I relish in its beauty, wanting it to last forever.
This year however May was a month I dreaded. The sorrow of farewells at its onset made me wish it would never come and when it finally did, that it would pass quickly. I truly disliked the prospect of its thirty one days.
Yet here we are, barely a week away from what I once feared would take an eternity to reach. In hindsight I realize that it has passed faster than I expected. I have settled into new routines and have accepted my new reality. It is not always easy and some days are better than others. I do still go through sleepless nights full of worries about the safety of the man I love, when I have no one to turn to for comfort, but my self, despite the support of so many wonderful people in my life. Yet I also do have days when I feel strong and capable, feeling time works in my favour, knowing that the end of my ordeal will come. And beyond that end is a beginning to the best part of my life.

Apart from hearing the voice and seeing the face of my handsome husband that I love endlessly, three elements are currently responsible for making my days flow with ease; sunshine, warmth and nature. I have started small garden projects and once again the therapy of gardening becomes so very obvious in my recollection. There is something very reassuring and revitalizing in planting something and watching it grow.

Observing our wild garden through out the winter, I secretly spun plans on which flowers would best suit its large proximity. I realized that what I missed most from my previous residence was the variety of vines, blooming and scented or evergreens. Particularly that stunning clematis, which grew against the fence of my terrace at the white house. Those cobalt blue flowers that in July - August covered the south wall like a veil of blue. Inspired by its beauty, I planted a baby clematis of the same kind against our terrace and I love to look at its growing progress. It is subtle, but it is there. It will take a few years before its beauty will match the one I recall, and we might not even live here by then, but that is something I refuse to worry about.
I have also become slowly acquainted with our lawnmower - we are getting along better by each week. Mowing the lawn is something I dread and love simultaneously. This love/hate relationship has many origins. I love the physical challenges of the mowing itself and the scent of fresh cut grass is one of the best natural perfumes I know. Yet I dislike with all my beings the disposal of the cut grass. It accounts for many heavy sacks and many drives to a nearby recycling station in my husbands large car, which I feel not comfortable to drive in nor to navigate through the narrow lanes of the station. Nevertheless, I view this as a challenge that makes me grow and as weeks pass by I know it will get easier - until one day it is just another chore that needs to be done.

Yet, my driving skills have certainly improved over the last year, as I slowly and surely accumulate thousands of miles behind the wheel, due to my very long daily commute. As some of you might recall, my old "green lighting" and I parted our ways this winter and in its place the "BlueMotion" has entered. It is actually a term for the technology which fuels and powers this beautiful anthracite coloured car of mine, making it fuel efficient and environmentally friendly. I LOVE that car. It is my best friend and my sentinel, as it takes me safely everywhere. At times it feels as if it can truly fly. Just a touch at the gas pedal and it takes off so effortlessly through the landscape, like a silver bullet, leaving everyone behind. It is a feeling unlike any other and has redefined the way I feel about driving.

Its colour reminds me of titanium. As of lately, I have become fascinated by this metal. It comes across as the color of coal mixed with silver. By definition, it is very light and soft,  yet very, very strong.
We chose to have our wedding rings made of this metal. Every day I look at that band on my finger and I relish in its simple beauty, while the chorus of one of my favorite dance songs resonates in my mind;  
"I Am Titanium".
I love the symbolism behind ideal of a love that is gentle and soft yet tensile strong - or of human trait of the same kind. The one that bends in the strong winds, yet withstands the fury of its gusts, remaining intact through the storms of life.

I am Titanium... or at least I long to be.

Sea Of Sunshine.

If I had to define the month of May here in Scandinavia with only one word, it would be raps. That is the Danish word for rapeseed. During mid-spring, their blossoms create oceans of yellow, covering the landscape, contrasting in perfect harmony with the blue of the sky and the green of the forests and fields.

Whenever I have the privilege to take walks in nature when these fields are in bloom, the experience is incredibly revitalizing. The breeze makes the long stalks sway, resembling rippled surface on a sea of sunshine. The golden colour has such a soothing effect on ones well being, as it signifies life and warmth. Additionally, rapebloom carries a deep sweet scent, and the perfumed air completes the experience, satisfying all the senses.
Add a clear, spring sunny day to the mix and the result is the beauty of a natural splendour and a joy of a simple pleasure.

(All images taken with my iPhone in the proximity of my home)

Twelve Down, One Hundred And Fifteen To Go...

It is morning and I sit at our kitchen table. The house is uncomfortably quiet.

Looking at the wall calender on my left I see twelve red crosses drawn over the past twelve days. Twelve odd days have passed since I parted with the love of my life. He is currently thousands of miles away, in a distant, foreign country that I will never visit, making sure its inhabitants can face a better future.

These past twelve days can be summarized as a period of arduous re-adjustment. They have been at times extremely difficult and most of all very, very long. I am slowly forced to accept the fact that I am once again - against my will - alone and I try relentlessly to find some positive aspect of my new reality.

I have good days and I have bad days.

When it is as worst, it feels as if I can not stand this predicament a minute longer and I keep wondering why my fate is once again putting me through such an ordeal.
The first day was by far the most difficult one. After having said good by to my love, watching him disappear from my view, my world suddenly fell apart. I felt alone and abandoned, consumed by anguish, fear and deep sadness.
Even now, the notion of the prolong separation renders me at times emotionally unstable, leaving me with a sense of despair. I can not conquer the emptiness within, nor the state of panic that keeps rising, trying to overcome me.

Yet, as time moves forward, I also have days when all of this seems less dramatic - and they increase in numbers. These days are my beacons of light, illuminating the path in a long dark tunnel through which I am traveling. Brought on by a small simple pleasure or the beauty of natural wonders as they momentarily pass my views and consciousness.
And eventually by my positive thinking, which always disperses the train of unsettling thoughts. But most of all by the reassurance from the man that I love, in form of an endearing word or a kind voice, reminding me that he is still there and he still cares. More than I will ever know. And that he is safe.


Twelve down, one hundred and fifteen to go.
To endure so many more days without seeing his face or feeling his touch comes across as unthinkable.
However, when my sanity returns in those glimpses of light, I realize that I have to allow myself to mourn and to embrace the sadness, the longing and the deep pain, understanding these as something vital and good. It is a proof of deep affection and an intimate connection between two people in love.
Thus, as days move forward, I will slowly regain my bearings and turn this time into something beneficial and prosperous. Already I find gentle consolation in the notion that the countdown has at last begun. Only twelve down, yet twelve less that two weeks back. Time can be our friend and our enemy, yet it is constant and it moves forward bringing an end to everything, whether it is good or bad.

I am a firm believer in the notion that everything happens for a reason. The difficult and trying periods in our life truly have their purpose. They are a time of growth and learning and they bring us forward, saving us from stagnation. Eventually these create a healthy balance in our life, enriching us with beneficial experiences. Human psyche is very strong and we can get used to almost anything - we can always handle more than we think.

Thus even though the temporary separation from my husband is difficult and unbearable, it reinforces our devotion for each other and it makes the days we indeed get to spend together more precious and magical. My heart is saturated with so much love and I hope this love will prevent sadness and fear in gaining hold.

"This too shall pass."
The old saying holds so much significance in my eyes today. And I know in no uncertain terms that if I only endure this trying time, the best is still yet to come.

(Images: photobucket, with exception of the last and first image)

Festival Of Light.

Once again, our evening sky becomes lit up as a silver hue settles across the heavens upon sunset. We commence the time of white nights here in the cold North and the countdown to midnight sun has begun, even though my position is in the southern most Scandinavia, where the midnight sun is used as a symbolical term only.

Still, our day has gained almost nine hours since winter solstice and the time of dusk is now stretched to comprise one hour short of midnight and is only growing. In a month the night will truly be white, or light as we say here.

I love this time of the year and it is now that my heart experiences a bittersweet longing for the views I once had at my disposal at the white house on the hill. Every day, with the onset in May, offered spectacular sunset skies and an endless twilight horizon. Today all I see are treetops and red roofs.
However, that is life - we gain some and we loose some. I have gained on so many other levels, that this is sacrifice I gladly take.

On our recent drive home from one of the Danish islands, after visiting my husbands family, we experience beautiful views of a late sunset as it unraveled over the sea, before we embarked on a ferry to take us home. Later we watched the silver skies accompany us home all the way through to the other side of midnight.
It made me realize that even though I do not get to see the stunning views on regular bases, the few times I get the privilege to see them makes the experience even more precious and enchanting.

"Amor Vincit Omnia".

I return to my online diary after almost two months absence, in the height of spring, at the onset of white nights and a period of growth and renewal.

A diary is a like a time capsule. It captures events, preserves our thoughts and impressions of a given moment, enabling us to relive our history and revisit our past by reading the written lines. As I scroll through my old posts, the changes my reality underwent over the years make me smile. That is the infinite magic of life - we never know what waits around the next bend.

The two rings I wear today are attestation to two defining moments of such changes in my very recent past.
As long as I live I will recall every single detail of the occasions when these two rings were given to me. My memory is saturated by vivid snapshots of these two extraordinary moments in time. Only ten days apart, they account for the two most important events of my life.

The ring worn on my one hand is my engagement ring.
Beautiful silver ring covered by red garnets. This was the ring with which I was asked to marry the love of my life. In front of our families, on a sunny day this April, the proposal was exactly as the incurable romantic within me always imagined - indeed even better. It took place in the beautiful gardens below the Prague castle, saturated by the first spring bloom. High above the historic city, the man that only a year prior stole my heart went down on one knee underneath the pink blossom of a cherry tree, asking for my hand in marriage.

My engagement lasted barely two weeks.
Exactly ten days later, on the first of this May, I said my second yes in the city hall in our home, receiving a beautiful titanium band that now adorns the ring finger of my other hand. I look at it constantly, as it makes me recall our wedding day, which was shared by the two of us only. I loved the simplicity of this precious, deeply intimate moment in time, which eternelized our love.

Ever since I was a little girl, I had visions and dreams of what my wedding day would be like. I think most little girls - and most single women - do. As I grew into a young woman, those dreams started to slowly fade. Not because I did not wanted to get married, but because I started to worry that the man I was searching for did not exist. As years went by and my relationships fell apart one by one, I gave up on my romantic dreams of getting married. I felt like a stupid old fool, still thinking in a young girls terms.

Still, our reality can change in a blink of an eye and as one of the most trying periods of my life was slowly concluding last year, the one that made me doubt happiness and life itself and I wondered secretly whether I was ever going to be smiling again, my fate turned around.
On a warm April day I took a stroll down by the sea with a handsome man - and my life was never going to be the same again.
He came out of nowhere and I knew he was the one. From the very start everything about him was so very different than anything else that I recognized and could relate to. And everything about him was exactly right. He made me believe again.

Thus that which I gave up on a long time ago came to pass. Several decades later than I ever imagined, the event itself though surpassed all my childhood dreams and will remain imprinted in my memory until the end of my days.

Amor Vincit Omnia.
This was written on the back of one of the wedding cards we received.  
Love Conquers All.
And indeed it does. There are no rules and no manuals when it comes to love. There is no right time, right age or right place. Love is versatile and complicated, yet is is also so very unpretentious and easy. It will come to us when we least expected it and it can not be predicted, anticipated, rushed or manipulated. True love is a product of pure mind, endless courage and incurable hope.

It only takes once to get it right. I waited almost half a century to say my yes, yet in hindsight I realize that I would do it all over again. Finding the man of my dreams is worth the wait of a life time.

Dedicated to my husband - my soul-mate and my best friend.