Last week I took you to see this tree outside my office. It was just lovely. Then I went to LA and, as this storm was preparing to arrive, worked outside by the pool all afternoon. Never have I been so aware of the good side of the left coast – where I lived so unhappily but have come to appreciate.
Back home tonight, which is Wednesday, it looks like this. I seem to be on a real tear about seasons and changes. I left a fiery display of falling leaves and returned just in time to welcome the magical silence that is my favorite part of an all-day snowfall.
I’m posting this on Friday, just before Shabbat. Ending the week.
Thanking God. Wishing I knew an angel named Earl. Remembering snowy
night time walks down Broadway with my kids. And snow days. And ski
lifts.
And back again to that old circle thing. There isn’t much in life that doesn’t come in cycles, and if you observe the Sabbath, it begins at 4:30 in the depth of winter and 9:30 at the height of summer. Jewish holidays too are built around harvest and planting, the moon and its cycles; it’s far more connected to the earth and its processes than I ever understood until we began living this observant life. I wonder sometimes if, given my pleasure in the cycles and their passage, that pleasure isn’t yet another reason we ended up here.
Shabbat Shalom.