From the South Rim, Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park
Hope is packing up our privilege and masks and bicycles and hiking boots and driving west to explore the future.
It is trekking higher in thin air, trusting our hearts and lungs, daring to imagine a bright new chapter that begins around the next bend in the dusty trail.
I used to think that I wasn't gregarious but now that everything seems so precarious and sometimes even just downright nefarious, and everyday pleasures grow mostly vicarious, I see my old thinking as almost hilarious.