( I took this pic from Annie rabinowitz blog)
So travel with 4 little kids is no picnic. But, here we are, at the other end of the world. What can I say… I am happy to be home. There is a calming soothing feel here. Maybe it is the fact that I am staring at the sea all the time. The continuous motion of the waves, the fascination people have with the sea. I watched all the surfers today. They are adults. Why do they get dressed in a wetsuit, buy a bakkie ( pick-up) to house their surfboards, and dive into the sea, only to spend the following two hours trying to pursue the perfect wave. Again and again. Dunked by the water. Up again – and back and forward with the ebb and flow of the tide.
I have watched my kids at the park, watched them at fun fairs, at waterslides. it’s the same thing. Again , and again. They will wait in line for 20 minutes, shivering, for that 30 seconds of careening down the water slide at 60km/h!
But why the fascination for adults? The sea. I concluded today, is like a woman. It is tempestuous, beautiful, alluring, secretive, loyal, deep, mysterious and unable to be controlled by man. I think that surfers feel like they have bridled the wild. Tamed a tiny part of mother nature, by being able to jump up and ride the wave as it crashes to the shore and turns from ferocity to a simple ripple, that splashes my 2yr olds toes and makes her squeal in delight.
One cannot help but adore the sea. Whether a sailor, a surfer, a swimmer, or a spectator. As I watched, I gained a deep sense of awe. Hashem created this ocean, with all its wonders. The mountains that surround it, the clouds that clung to the cliffs, like tufts of dandelions caught in the crags.
The beauty that was before me, astounded me. I could sit here watching for hours, and not get bored. How is that? There are no ads, no underlying plots. Same sea, same immoveable mountains.
It was a great backdrop for my davening. I could feel Hashem everywhere, and I feel like I have not felt that in a long time. In the sense that when you are faced with tremendous natural beauty, you cannot help but be in awe of its creator.
Also the red steps outside our little shul, in sleepy muizenberg, brought me to tears, and deepened my rosh Hashan kavana.
Why the red steps? Well this is such a South African thing. As I sat on them, and watched my kids play, in the same place that I played as a kid, those red steps struck a chord deep inside of me. These steps are part of my heritage. I have never seen this anywhere else in the world. It conjured up emotions of the african sun, warm on my skin, and sitting on the cool red cement steps. I could feel these steps all the way back into my past. They have been everywhere. I can’t recall where though. Probably old school buildings, where I did gymnastics and ballet. It is a very understated South African thing. I never really took notice of them, until today. Until I sat on them. And their 100 years of existence nudged me. I have history here. I feel life here. I feel.
I am rambling. Enough said. It is good to be home. Shana tova to everyone.