Hope

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul." - Emily Dickinson

I don't photograph very many birds, except maybe sea gulls at the beach. This little guy was perched along the path near Old Faithful geyser in Yellowstone National Park. It was a cool day as you can see by the dark clouds behind him and his feathers were ruffling in the wind. I expected him to fly away the second the I stopped, but he let me take one picture of him. Maybe he was "frozen" in his spot and didn't have the energy to fly away. Anyway, I was rather surprised when I downloaded my pictures after that trip to find this photo, I like it. Even though it's dark and brooding, this bird speaks of perseverance in spite of the dreary weather. He speaks of "hope." I think this is a bluebird. Is he the "bluebird of happiness"?

I came home today in a foul mood, very little had gone right today, it seemed. As I was lamenting to hubby, I was glancing at a catalog and found the verse by Emily Dickinson. When I read it and I felt that there has to be hope somewhere in my job, in my day. I thought of this picture. Maybe, hope comes in a once-in-my-lifetime picture. Maybe, hope just perches nearby and allows us to ponder the beauty of it's feathers as they ruffle in the winds. Winds of change, winds of chaos. Maybe, even winds of contentment, if we allow it.

Yes, today I came home blowing like the wind. Blowing out words of discontentment and frustration. Once I "blew" myself out, I finally could sit and enjoy the evening and allow this little bluebird of happiness to "brighten" my day.