Planting Seeds of Hope

The weather has suddenly turned nasty in the Pacific Northwest, with snow storms pounding the mountains. After a season without snow, we're suddenly being hit by record snowfall. It's much needed snow, as there has been little snow in the mountains this year.

Hopefully, the cold air will hold off down here in the valleys, though, as the daffodils are about to bloom. Right not they're looking a little pitiful as gray, gloomy clouds block the sunlight.

I'm trying to ignore the news, ignore the fact that our President seems to determined to lead us to war this month no matter what Iraq does. I'm trying to ignore the fact that some pretty intelligent people feel that attacking Iraq will make the War on Terror more difficult to fight rather than lessen the dangers of terrorist attacks.

No, today I'm planting seeds, seeds of hope. "Sweet Million," "Fantastic," or "Oregon Spring" may merely sound like names of tomato plants to some, but to me they sound like seeds of hope, seeds of faith. How could "California Wonder" or "Hot Pepper Blend" not evoke hope, especially as temperatures plummet and rain settles in for a week-long stay.

Planting seeds is always a sign of hope, just ask any farmer who stakes his livelihood on crops. So that's what I'm doing today, planting seeds of hope.

But this year, as I attempt to ignore the news that lies at the edge of my thoughts, as I work in the garage with bags of planting soil and pull out old planting flats, I'm planting seeds of hope.

5 thoughts on “Planting Seeds of Hope

  1. One of the best moments of the year is seeing the first Spring flower. There’s always that sense of hope that comes with the Spring — we made it to Spring this year and this Fall, we’ll plant the bulbs for next year’s Spring.

    If we truly gave up hope, we wouldn’t plant bulbs, have children, or plant seeds.

  2. Last summer we bought a house, and one of the great pleasures of the spring is going to be seeing what comes up in the gardens planted by the previous owners. Yesterday was warm here and things starting popping up all over the place. I’m anticipating some gorgeous irises a couple of months from now. Good work, planting seeds.

  3. I wrote this as a self-administered antidote to “Dark Times, Indeed.”

    I refuse to give in to the anger that I feel over our upcoming war.

    I refuse to give up my sense of hope and my joy in my everyday life.

    I pray that some good will come of whatever happens. Perhaps, at least we will relearn the hard lessons we learned from Vietnam and, at least for a while, be a better nation for it.

What do you think?