On Hawks and Hope

I was walking with a friend and our dogs through Riverside park this morning. Suddenly a large bird swooshed right in front of us. It was a red-tailed hawk! It perched on a nearby branch, and we had a good look at her lush underbelly, and her inviting wingspan when she cuddled up for a better hold. She and her partner are nest-building. A crowd gathered some distance from the nest, some holding up their cellphones for a quick photo. Why are people so excited about a red-tailed hawk in New York City? My thoughts: It is proof that nature is still alive and vital, and people like knowing that despite everything we have done to trample upon her, she is still strong, breathing, and making life. That means there is hope for the parts of us that are connected to and a part of nature.
On Peoples' Minds: "You can't imagine how these birds look through binoculars --- you can see their eyes! They are so much bigger than you would think. You realize what spectacular creatures they are!"
In the News: The current election debate about charisma vs. substance is related to climate change. Let me explain, but I'm not going to link to Hillary Clinton's "shame on you" to Barack Obama, nor his reply - because it's just not worth the trouble. Barack Obama might not be your candidate, but I don't think it makes sense to reject someone for being charismatic or inspiring.
It is, however, hard to trust those characteristics in anyone. We are a nation of disappointed citizens. I hear it everywhere. No one wants to have their heart broken again. That kind of self protection helps a citizenry survive some dark times --- I would call it a kind of seasoned and cynical broadmindedness. Or, the voice of wisened experience, as in, "we know better than to wish for something as idealistic as a better world." How many of us witnessed the fatal shots that destroyed those who spoke of hope?
Were our hearts also broken when we as chldren witnessed our society's mistreatment of the animals and earth that we so cherished? Remember when you just knew that the fields, flowers, grassy hillsides and gawky newborn farm animals were a part of you? When snow and rain were opportunities for impassioned adventures into the unknown? Isn't the inevitability of climate change weighing on all of us, consciously or unconsciously? Do we feel too doomed to hope, or frightened into constrictive passivity?
Until we see a hawk making its nest in a city park, that is. Then for a moment, we believe. But only for a moment. Once the cellphone is flipped closed, we return our gaze to the same old concrete path, our heads hanging downward.
So many of us seem to have forgotten that feeling hopeful about the future was once as natural as a pair of hawks choosing a good tree to raise their young.