Hope is a thing with feathers

I have been busy planting.  This winter was mild, and the spring is mild, and the summer will be hot. It is an act of faith, and since I have no faith it is remarkable. The promise of fresh tomatoes, beans, zucchini and peppers is the motivation. Also flowers. Must have the bees, the scent and the color of flowers. I have been in a funk.  The present administration is so chaotic, so false, so mean and spiteful, so autocratic, so selfish, that I can't listen to the news. The mean people are winning, and of course they will, because the nice people just can't be bothered to organize and strike back. Because they are nice. And mean people are bullies. Thus my discouraged attitude.  Tomorrow I get to see my birds, clean up after them, hold them, talk with them, feed them. This is what I hold on to.  My children have their own lives, and will never have kids of their own. So they are distant, and that is to be expected.  I see no continuity. I see no hope. I see only the meanness of the winners. At least I get to hang with the animals in my life.