A Certain Kind of Hope


The dormant season brings a certain kind of hope
Hope hidden among clouds and sandhill trills
Hope as the wind that move us to stand still
And watch leaves ride slow and side to the surface of the pond
Hope as she moves like water now in among the clay particles
Tangled in goldenrod root and Bobby’s blue


Art by TC Steele


8 thoughts on “A Certain Kind of Hope”

  1. I’ve started to feel that hope this year, where earlier I was hoping winter never would come. Makes it easier to find the hope now that the roof sheeting and tarpaper are on, and we have several (many) trees in the ground. 😉

    1. Farms are a certain kind of trap if you entertain (like I sometimes do) the notion that there will a future with completion. E.g. finish the dormant seed forb planting, finish getting the wood in the barn, finish digging the wetland ponds, connecting the electric fence, etc., etc. This is why Thoreau disparaged sons who are given their father’s farms. But it is mostly (all?) a state of mind. Glad to hear of your progress (and trees!) 🙂

      1. Re: a state of mind: the quote you gave a couple weeks (?) ago about releasing your demand on this moment is still ringing in my head, and it helps me.
        I am definitely guilty of imagining a “finished” future. All the time. (mostly it involves moving out of a leaky rv)

      2. So perhaphs then, a farm, like other demanding things, marriage, parenthood, survival, is a blessed beautiful instrument in uncovering that accepting state of mind, the humility of not knowing. With a bit of a bonus of tasty foods 🙂

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