The chill in the air rests on my hands making them cold as I type. I snuggle in the coziest of blankets and prepare for the cold days ahead. First, the beauty of trees’ leaves revealing their true nature then releasing to the ground, then chilly and hopefully snowy days. Darkened. Quiet. Peaceful. I hope. Hope took the form of ovals on my mail-in ballot. Hope hangs in the air until the last of them is counted and the result is made clear.
When 2020 began, people joked about clear vision. We had no idea the clarity that would emerge. I hope we do what we can in each present moment — heeding the science and dealing honestly, urgently, with COVID-19 while at the same time not just empathizing with but finally truly answering the long-standing cries of injustice. I’d hate to see 2021 become a year focused on the lessons of hindsight.
For Mother Nature, change is in process. Part of my hope rests in my belief that change is coming for all of us, and soon.