This week, something special happened. Something that I took for granted for the first thirty years of my life, when I lived in Holland, but that I’ve come to see now as the life-bringing miracle it really is.
Rain is a cause for celebration in Israel. My father-in-law measures each rainfall and whatsapps all of us triumphantly: “25 ml today!” The first rain after the long, hot, dry summer is called “yoreh”, and it is longingly anticipated. It’s usually not more than a few muddy drops, at least where we are. Still, it’s an event. We all run outside to see, feel and taste the rain.
The animals are taken by surprise. Some of the younger ones have never felt rain in their lives. The chickens have taken up the habit of roosting in the trees like the guinea fowl and the peas. That might be a little problematic this winter, when the rainstorms start…
Still, I hope that this will be a good, wet winter, with a lot of rainfall to fill the rivers, drench the land and wash away the dust of the summer.