Daring to be hopeful

Thanks to Ingeborg for hosting Abstract Thursday with the theme of hope. 
Started in the office in Penrith, headed down to Ambleside in the pouring rain and then onto Grange. A late finish but it had dried up and I wanted to get some air so I had a wander around Latterbarrow ... full of orchids, including butterfly orchids which were looking a bit damp. But it was the ox-eye daisies that stole the show swirling in the strong winds. Heartened heading home by the Scottish Episcopals ....perhaps there is hope for the evolution of humanity.

A Poem on Hope - Wendell Berry

It is hard to have hope. It is harder as you grow old, 
for hope must not depend on feeling good 
and there’s the dream of loneliness at absolute midnight. 
You also have withdrawn belief in the present reality 
of the future, which surely will surprise us, 
and hope is harder when it cannot come by prediction 
anymore than by wishing. But stop dithering. 
The young ask the old to hope. What will you tell them? 
Tell them at least what you say to yourself.

Because we have not made our lives to fit 
our places, the forests are ruined, the fields, eroded, 
the streams polluted, the mountains, overturned. Hope 
then to belong to your place by your own knowledge 
of what it is that no other place is, and by 
your caring for it, as you care for no other place, this 
knowledge cannot be taken from you by power or by wealth. 
It will stop your ears to the powerful when they ask 
for your faith, and to the wealthy when they ask for your land
and your work.  Be still and listen to the voices that belong 
to the stream banks and the trees and the open fields.

Find your hope, then, on the ground under your feet. 
Your hope of Heaven, let it rest on the ground underfoot. 
The world is no better than its places. Its places at last 
are no better than their people while their people 
continue in them. When the people make 
dark the light within them, the world darkens.