Day 350 of 365
I frequently think about how important hope is for me, and I look for signs of hope wherever I can. I can find them, but sometimes, I have to look hard. I realized today that hope is right under my nose.
Every spring, Ron plants the seeds every year. I am always busying around him, working on my own things, but I watch. I see him turn the compost into the soil with the shovel. Then, because he loves straight rows, he uses string to guide his planting and plants the peas, the greens, the radishes in the April soil. He starts the onions, peppers, tomatoes and more inside and attends to their little needs with so much care.
If planting seeds every spring isn’t hope, then what is, right?
Farmer-ish 