Every Shabbat afternoon, Raphaela and I meet a friend of hers and her family at the local park; the girls spend most of their time eating the snacks we parents have packed for them. The tradition continues even though the two girls attend different schools this year.
Today we left the play area earlier than usual, the air smelled like rain, and indeed the timing is fortuitous: on Succot we prayed for start of the rainy season in Israel, a land with a rich agricultural history and deep connection to the land. And apparently G-d listened.
My first clue was that crisp smell in the air, my second clue was our cat Harry standing at the door and begging to go home, when he usually has to be dragged inside during the night.
The first rain of the season was glorious, and as we sat and watched the downpour, all our neighbors came out onto their porches as well, cheering and laughing and viewing nature's performance. The three children of my neighbor, a woman who happens to be a friend from Boston, came outside despite their mother's protestations and began dancing in the rain, singing, "It's raining...it's pouring."
It's one of those Israeli moments, when you feel that we are all part of "one big family," united for the moment in pleasure and joy.
As a side note, I recently rescued this beautiful kitten and she now lives in our backyard and garden. Harry would never let her in the house, he is not especially good at sharing his territory and his family. She has arrived at that point where she could be adopted today into a family and thrive, and in a week or two from now she will become officially feral. It kills me that she may fall ill from the sudden rain after she has come so far, any takers?
At the very least, the kitten can find shelter in the Succot on the streets of Jerusalem for the next few days, truly fortuitous.
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