Sometimes I Worry. Sometimes I Hope.

I try not to worry. I know it doesn’t do any good and only robs me of joy and peace. But there is a lot going on in the world right now. So much! It was a week when my U.S senator Alex Padilla was thrown to the floor and handcuffed by FBI agents when he tried to ask DHS Secretary Kristi Noem a question at a Los Angeles news conference. You can hear him on video saying, “I’m a U.S Senator!” They dragged him from the room anyway.

My homeowners insurance is set to renew in August, which means that every day when I walk to the post office and reach into my mailbox, I wonder if there will be a letter that will bite me like a snake, one that informs me that my homeowners insurance policy will be canceled next year. State Farm has been our family’s insurance company for decades: not just for me, but for my sister and my parents before us. Last year, State Farm started canceling homeowners policies in our fire prone area. My sister, who lives a few miles from me, had her policy renewed. That was great news (the premium went way up, but at least she still has homeowners insurance)! Her good friend, who lives up the road from her, was not so lucky. To add insult to injury? Since her friend’s auto insurance was also through State Farm, they lost their multiple line discount when their homeowners insurance was canceled, which meant that their auto insurance premiums skyrocketed.

Doesn’t seem right, does it?

(It’s possible I misunderstood all this, so don’t quote me on it. But if it’s true? Terrible.)

I’ve also been wondering about what will happen to the subsidy that I’ve gratefully been receiving for my health insurance through the Affordable Care Act. Seems like Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” is cutting funding for Medicare and would also scale back health insurance subsidies. KFF estimates “a national average premium increase of 75 percent if the enhanced subsidies expire.” The Congressional Budget Office “expects that about 4.2 million more people will be uninsured in 2034 as a result.”

I was worrying about all this and then looked out at my birdfeeder and saw a grosbeak munching on sunflower seeds. I’ve been refilling my hummingbird feeder nearly every day, partly to make sure that the nectar stays fresh, but also because the hummingbirds, grosbeaks, and Bullock’s orioles have been draining it regularly. The milkweed that I planted several years ago is flourishing. This evening when I took Biscuit out for his last walkabout of the day, I noticed a brightly colored butterfly hovering around. She fluttered toward the blackberry blossoms, but then made a beeline across the street. She landed on the milkweed. I was able to grab a photo; my friend the butterfly expert confirms that it was a monarch.

A monarch! In my milkweed!

That’s where I’m finding hope tonight. There and in the “No Kings” protest that I attended today at the Courthouse in Auburn.

There were hundreds of people (my best guess) gathered on the streets surrounding the courthouse, holding clever and creative signs. Many of the cars that passed honked their horns in solidarity and waved. A few (only a few) opened their windows and made less than friendly hand gestures. To these? The people gathered for the protest shouted, “Boo!” But then the Trump supporters drove away, and we were surrounded again by people who felt safe. I ran into friends that I hadn’t seen in months, people who I didn’t know would be there, but that I wasn’t surprised to see.

We do what we can.

We go to protests. We plant milkweed. We recycle. We open our windows and turn off our air conditioners. We gather with friends. The best thing about the protest today? It reminded me that there are many of us in my county and around the country who are horrified by the Trump administration, by ICE, by Kristi Noem and her version of “homeland security.” I don’t know if much was changed or accomplished by the protests that took place around the country today. Except I know what changed in me: it kindled hope. It reminded me that I’m not alone.

And seeing that monarch butterfly in my yard, in my milkweed which just started blooming? That gave me hope, too.