Inspired by The Gifts of Strawberries Guri shared few posts back, a few recent reflections on walking, as well as the Introduction in Studs Turkel's last book he wrote before passing "Hope Dies Last" I wrote this reflection in my journal and thought I'd share:

An exploration of gifts

A morning walk reawakens the dendrites silenced by yesterday's internet clicks. Today I will do better with that. This morning ritual, often denied, gifts hope. Hope in the hang loose from the school bus driver & a myriad of hellos from the many different types of birds. Hope is in the fallen flowers blanketing the path, some bruised some still fresh and waiting for another way to give, possibly they'll make it to the side of a strangers ear. Hope is in the hello of what may be the happiest man on earth, who sleeps in a tent at the edge of the land; a clear judgment towards positivity on my part. Hope is at the table, shabbily built (possibly by that happiest and clearly mischievous man) under a tree waiting for one to sit. Hope comes from the waves gently landing, time and time again, as your breath finds it way in line with each crash. The tables inscription asks, "got good news?". Yes, yes I do. Hope comes in the grumble of your stomach as it's reminded of breakfast. In your wonders of where to go, your worries of how pricey it will be, and here hope comes once more. As a block from your home some mangoes have fallen, you know from almost stepping on them. Should you take them? Is that stealing? Will there be enough for the owners of the tree? Looking up you see there's plenty abundantly waiting, hundreds even. Looking down, there's many more rotting and rolling into the street. So there in lies hope, breakfast given, gifted, from a neighbors tree.

One wonders further where can I pass along unexpected gifts and create a small bit of hope in my own way today?