A day before Thanksgiving, I had some last-minute purchases to make (I always forget something – this time, it was shallots…). It was a chilly morning, so when I got in the car, I sat back for a few moments to let the heat circulate and the seat warm up (yes – heated seats are a New England thrill).
I love sitting in my car sometimes. I’ve been known to nap while my car is parked in my driveway. It’s cozy and quiet and intimate.
As I sat there, comfy and warm, I picked up on a feeling of anticipation. A certain stillness outside matched the tranquility in my quiet automobile. But what was it? What was I waiting for in my car, and what was brewing outdoors? There were no clouds in the sky. No sign of a tornado…
And then, suddenly, came a gust of wind—just a single, gentle puff.
That was the signal. All at once, leaves began to fall – so many leaves! I sat there mesmerized, watching the glorious cascade. Some leaves danced on air currents. Others just dropped straight down from their branches. I could hear them hit the roof of the car and the hood. The browned leaves and stiff stems made clicking noises on the metal and glass. It was a leaf storm, a spontaneous moment when Nature dictated that their lease was up.
I was blessed to witness the profound beauty of it all. And the truth is that I’m not a nature boy. I don’t go out of my way to enter the natural world. It’s not that I’m lazy (well, maybe a little). It’s just that hiking doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t enjoy sleeping in a sleeping bag. And things like gnats and chiggers and ants feast on my body. So, no thanks. If I want a fix of Nature, I can watch David Attenborough documentaries and listen to his glorious voice.
But the leaf storm was something different. It was a reminder that there are forces at work in the Universe, potencies so granular and yet so cloaked in mystery, how wind and temperature affect trees and their limbs. Why do leaves change from green to deep green to red to brown? Not to mention the power of dark energy, which we know is present even though we have no direct evidence. Or the origin of black holes. Or the likelihood of an infinite Universe…
There is so much… more than we will ever see, know, or understand. Forces at work that dwarf our sense of existence. This is all so compelling. It reminds me, even as I watch the Israel-Hamas war resume, with all its attendant fear and suffering, that all of it is dwarfed by a reality we can’t even imagine.
If only, for a split second, we could all engage in a 5 second simultaneous round of empathy for each other and then look up to experience the transcendence of the Universe and see our infinitesimal presence via the James Webb Space Telescope, we could laugh and embrace and share a good meal and an appreciation for the absurd and the fleeting nature of life and for the leaves that die and fall, only to be followed by more of the same.
Before Shabbat 