Even Tu B’Shevat is a big deal here. What a joy it was to mark the occasion with the entire class and parent body of my little daughter’s gan, planting trees in a local nature park. Actually, the tree planting providentially took place the Friday before the holiday; Tu B’Shevat itself was a complete rainout – a gift to all those newly planted trees.
But my favorite slice of life here is Friday morning. Because Friday is a day off for many (while Sunday is a workday for all), on Friday mornings you see couples, many with baby strollers, sitting in cafes enjoying a leisurely breakfast. Around them, flowers, baked goods, and other specialties literally spill out from the shops onto tables set up outside.
Later, as the sun fades, a miracle: The same thoroughfares that were bustling with shoppers like myself towing overflowing wagons just hours before are transformed into oases of tranquility. As we walk the peaceful streets on Shabbos, I have to remind the kids to stay out of the gutter in case of an occasional car passing. They are still young enough to be mostly oblivious to that danger, as well as to the other more sinister threats around us. We pray that Hashem vanquish our enemies soon so that those worries will become a thing of the past.
On the ledge of our balcony alongside our flag banner, my little potted orange tree whose fruits fell off one by one during the harsh weather is starting to bud tiny white flowers. I don’t know whether new baby oranges will grow (the closest I get to a green thumb is when I dice avocados), but as the rainy season haltingly gives way to the healing warmth of early spring, I am inspired by the possibility.
