I'm not typically prone to optimism...
And there's plenty of reasons to sink into ever increasing cynicism at the moment. But I have the distinct pleasure to have a view of the Appalachian foothills from my apartment window, and there's something about that natural wonder that always grounds me (pun not intended but definitely welcome).
The mountains don't care who's president.
The Appalachians are my favorite mountain chain. So many others are vast, gorgeous, imposing. They bend over you and remind you of your fragility, of your smallness. They take your breath away and leave you in awe.
The Appalachians, by contrast, are welcoming. Their gentle curves beckon you in, folding your exploration gently amongst their wooded spines. Contrary to stark, iced peaks, they harbor life. Hold it dear. Shade it and provide it nourishment. Smoky veils provide privacy, and purple pink sunsets encourage unity. Other mountain ranges tolerate your visits, but the Appalachians want you to call them home.
The mountains don't care about billionaires.
And I find a comfort and a strength in that. No matter what happens, the Appalachians will be here. They will be welcoming. They will be home.