Our tree is bare. Yikes, I’ve never seen her like this! Overnight rain lashing against exposed skin has caused a darkening. Beyond brown, maybe even black is her bark colour this morning. There is a small but constant wind-play in her limbs. She seems to shiver too.
Not even Max Richter’s string deluge can bring about the song’s eight-note promise of Spring. It is winter. And our first, in this lovely little Mordehai A’liash, ‘home away from home.’
The iron railed, two-person balcony is normally magical. I write there. We coffee from the bistro table. It is the place where tea is taken. Lunches and dinners too. Watching the flow of panicked pre-rest traffic as Friday evening approaches, is observed from that narrow ledge. We Shabbat there.
But not this season. Winter equals rain. The ceramic tiled seats glisten with standing water. And the wind (not far off the ocean) makes for a miserable experience. I can only longingly peer through the golden sheers at the beloved balcony.
Winter has purpose. That’s what mature people always say. It is nevertheless, bleak.
It is groggy. We are too.
Our leafless tree waits. We wait. This beautiful nation, she awaits too.
#comeSpring #jetlagisvicious #IstillloveLucy #neveragainmeansnow #lifeisgood
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