It has been a month.
On a Friday, one moon cycle ago, I took my children to learn about sugaring maple at Tyler arboretum, but the day was frozen and the sap did not drip. We stood around the Maple tree for a while and then walked back to the classroom.
Being inside, looking outside, I could see a very old Cedar of Lebanon. Its leaves spiraled up in a way I have seen before, first in Jerusalem, then in the Galilee.
Now, here.
As I gazed, climbing the branches with my eyes, I felt an enormous wave of happiness crashing on my shore, the joy of reuniting with a familiar and essential element that has long been forgotten.
Then tears came to my eyes, and wonder to my heart.
And my soul fell, face down, on a new ground.




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