The morning after.

When I woke up, my eyes felt like a desert, from the tears of the night before, I think. I had an election hangover, if you will. I checked the interweb, mostly from habit. What were people saying? I think I might miss all those voices I sought out, trawling the commentary sites, the papers, the blab-o-sphere. Although, and on the other hand, I might not miss them all that much. I watched the snow falling. I observed my spirits both rise and . . . not fall, exactly, but I did feel a tiny bit blue. What is that about? I think it's the huge tide of emotion, spilling over when the newsdroids called the election, and the speeches. I was moved by McCain's concession--as gracious as one could ever hope, and then Obama's, which was thrilling and overwhelming and fitting and stirring. I had never heard before how the refrain Yes, we can worked in the context of a whole speech--how the power of it rose and intensified.

I know there's a lot of reasons to be judicious, given everything that's ahead, but I feel full of hope, and today it was good to come back to that, as I took a walk, got ready for the day, wrote, rode the train, started a new book. I kept coming back to that hope, over and over and over again.