on February 2, 2017
Amidst the darkness of the American political landscape and uncertainty about the future that comes with it, one thing that brings me hope is the subtle changes of nature. Today on my 4:23 pm-departing bus ride home, I was pleasantly surprised at how light it was heading north on I-5.
In my urban, nine-to-five Monday through Friday life, weather and seasonal changes can feel subtle. My workday routine doesn’t change drastically based on the weather much more than the type of jacket I wear to the office. Only when I’m in the mountains or on the water are the forces of nature so strikingly real. The city, for some reason, has become to feel safe. Perhaps it’s more out of normalcy than reason.
With longer days, I’m reminded that spring is on the horizon. The transition from winter to spring is always the most hopeful time of year. That which seemed dead or dying in winter brings forth blossoms, life, and rebirth in the spring. So, while I process and figure out how to act about the things happening in the other Washington, I’m reminded that nature remains powerful, and that the seasons bring hope not matter what the dealings of men.
Still, this hopefulness cannot be a distraction from taking action.