On Hope

Hope. It's more than Barack Obama's buzzword. It's more than a philosophical belief and it's more than something you can chose. For me, hope is a physical experience. It's a spiritual one. Hope is elusive, but necessary, and here, it's fleeting.

But I keep seeing this white bird everywhere I go and it's almost always by itself. I saw it with two other white birds today. The other ones quickly flew away, but it walked right up to me. Let me take this picture of it. I've filled my journal already with pages of contemplation about what it means-what signs unasked for really signify. Why some universal force seems so determined to remind me to fight through the homesickness and remember hope. I need things of comfort, so I think I'll stop questioning why this bird is following me and just let it.