The world is both bigger and smaller than our problems. There always ways to make things better — which is what hope is, right? The idea that if we just stick with it things will get better?

My wife is out of town with her dad, our oldest, and grandson. I’m here taking care of our youngest two. I could be lonely, but yesterday I took my daughter to a state park and we walked some trails. I had hoped we’d run into some horses for her while we were there and damned if we didn’t do just that. 3 Fresians and a Paint — looked like the only ones there based on trailers, and not only were we there at the same time but we crossed paths.

Thrilled my daughter and she got to tell me all about her plans and efforts to own a small farm and horses some day. If anyone else told me without any history of farming they were going to take it up I’d be skeptical, but if anyone can, she can. I’m hopeful for her. This world might just burn to the ground, but that one will achieve her dreams before it happens.

Today between my back and my feet after that walk I can barely stand, but I’m on my deck with a cigar and a beer and a bright sunny day and… the world doesn’t care about me. It has no expectations. Nothing is riding on my shoulders. I can just exist in this moment and look at nature around me and realize all the fire and ice and devastation that must’ve passed through here before has all given way and been rebuilt to the beautiful day in front of my eyes.

It’s hard not to be hopeful, really. There is so much beauty in this world that exceeds the ugliness of this little screen in my hand.

Your mileage may vary.