In this morning's paper, there were two stories that gave me hope for the future of our little planet. One was about a group of high schoolers who had spent their spring break rebuilding homes in New Orleans as part of Habitat for Humanity. Surely, if there are kids who can care enough to share their time and sweat to help people they've never met before, there is hope.
The other story was about a group of 1000 people who have been trained by Al Gore and his team to give presentations based on 'An Inconvenient Truth' to their peers. They represent a broad spectrum of people in America and include grandmothers and teenagers and they are spreading the word and changing people's minds, one at a time. Surely, if there are people like this, who will spend their own money to travel to the training session and then spread the word on caring for our planet, there is hope.
Then, there's our little family story that didn't appear in any paper. Today we went for a little hike. A little hiking, a lot of carrying, then a little resting, a little whining, then a little more hiking. Uphill for a bit and then, a view to love. It was so nice to walk on dirt and grass and rocks and NOT on cement or asphalt or carpet. It was wonderful to stop and listen and hear only the sounds of crickets, birds, and the wind rushing through the trees. So nice to feel the sun on our faces and hear the slurp, slurp of our shoes as we pulled them out of the muddy bits. So absolutely wonderful to take a stick and poke it in the mud and swish it around in the stream, just to see what happens.
We get so stuck in the routines of our lives that it is easy to forget our connection to nature and how wonderful it is to be in a place that is untouched by man's need to build and remodel his environment. We need to do this more often.
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