Today we took a walk at Saratoga National Battlefield Park — a subdued and grey start to the year, but full of comforting shades of golds and browns, against the dull foggy sky. We remembered that it was four years ago today that we took a walk in Maryland that put our dreams in motion and steered us along the very path that led us to where we are today. We were filled with hope and excitement back then, and the more we talked about it, the more things started to happen, and now here we are.

The world has changed so dramatically in these past four years, we could have never imagined that the pandemic, and life as we all knew it pre-Covid, would be our new global reality. We are still filled with hope, for our dreams here in this little slice of upstate New York, and for our nation and world. But it is harder to see it and hang on to it some days. I try to focus on the good stuff, the positives of each day, because that is what matters most — the little gifts, moments to be grateful for, mini-treasures — but it has not been easy. Becoming a homeowner, and now also a puppy owner, have both been very rewarding, but certainly challenging, the latter being way more than I was prepared to handle well. But we are managing and we will be fine — because we are still so blessed — we have our health, a home, and many other blessings we are thankful for. Sure, it has been tough at times, but others have had to endure true pain, loss, hardship that we can’t begin to fathom.

Today I came across this short poem that seemed perfect for the first day of the new year — from this wonderful book I got at Battenkill Books: How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope.

HOPE by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Hope has holes
in its pockets.
It leaves little
crumb trails,
so that we,
when anxious,
can follow it.
Hope’s secret:
it doesn’t know
the destination–
it knows only
that all roads
begin with one
foot in front
of the other.