On October 7, we were hurled back to a time we thought was behind us— and a world that turns a blind eye
I love a beautiful view. But we can’t always have everything that we want. My apartment has a great porch — with a view of the porches of the buildings on the parallel street.
But there’s one spot where the buildings part and I can see for miles straight down the Begin Highway to the mountains ringing Jerusalem. On a sunny day this slice of the city lies before me in crystal clarity.
All summer long, as the oppressive heat gave way with the setting sun, the breeze picked up, and the leaves rustled around me, that spot on my porch felt magical. Was it just the relief from the heat that left me feeling hopeful? If the heat, so suffocating during the day — a heavy blanket wrapped around me I couldn’t shake off — just disappeared at the end of each day, could all our troubles do the same?
But summer is long gone. There’s no heat I need to escape. The breeze is uncomfortable, not magical. The changing seasons send a chill through me — and it’s not just the weather.
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