J
erusalem becomes a virtual ghost town every summer between Tishah B’Av and Elul. Traffic dwindles to fewer cars and fewer pedestrians. The city seems to empty out. The press reported at the time that tens of thousands of Israelis were flying abroad each day. That’s because Israelis take vacation time very seriously and those three weeks are bein hazmanim (“intersession”) — official summer vacation season.
One morning during bein hazmanim I received a delightful gift: My regular swimming pool was completely empty. Only the lifeguard and I were there. Instead of a group of splashing men crowding the swimming lanes I was utterly alone. I reveled in the silence and the solitude the only sound being the delicate lapping of the water.
That afternoon I went to the beis medrash where I normally do my daily Talmud study (my spiritual exercise…). It is normally filled with men similarly engaged plus the members of a kollel studying in groups. But this was bein hazmanim. Again I was utterly alone. Instead of the hum of learning total silence. Once again I luxuriated in the solitude the only sound being the rustling of the pages of my sefer. I felt like I alone had been appointed guardian of both the physicality and the spirituality of this holy city. Everyone else was gone.
But after a few days of this I became a bit fidgety and found myself wishing that someone — anyone — would show up. Finally a solitary figure appeared in the beis medrash and though I had no idea who he was I was relieved to see another human being . And the next morning when someone else showed up at the pool I welcomed him warmly even though the delicate lapping of the water was no more.
