I didn’t plan to blog about hope today, but I guess life is like that. I read a quote attributed to Samuel Johnson. He said that, “The natural flights of the human mind are
. . . from hope to hope.” I’ve been thinking about how many times we express the feeling of hope. Simple hopes – that the weather will improve, that our home team will win, that the restaurant won’t be too crowded. More serious hopes – that the medicals tests will be negative, that the pending storm won’t do too much damage, that family and friends are safe as they travel. And more global hopes – that poverty can be eradicated, that climate change can be tempered, if not reversed, that peaceful coexistence can somehow be achieved.

It’s the human condition to be hopeful. Probably why the expression that there’s “no hope” is so devastating. I’ve always loved the poem by Emily Dickinson, “Hope” Is The Thing With Feathers.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

As much as I love that poem, hope for me, is symbolized by a magical double rainbow that we saw from the boat last summer. Storms are often followed by rainbows. Sometimes even double ones!