One of the things I love about Israel is the abutting of the old and the new, the natural with the man-made. A modern Yeshiva fronts ancient homes, a store older than my grandparents hosts the most stylish of shoes. Even the Kotel stares out at newly minted structures.
Ride with me on the bus and stare out the window; walking along, grazing in the grass along either side of the highway, are goats led by a shepherd. Lucky goats today, as the grass is lush, green and sweet from all the recent rains.
As a spinner, who unfortunately hasn't picked up her spindle in years, I keep wanting to shout at the bus driver; STOP!!! Let me beg some milk from the goats. I'll make cheese, I'll make soap. Please let me ask the shepherds to hold their fleece for me next time they sheer their flock." I don't care the color. I'll clean and sort and card and spin." Of course I never do. I just watch as we pass them from our window...grazing as they always have grazed on the grass beside the road.
If the ancient and the new conflicted, perhaps I wouldn't feel this sense of wonder. But they don't. They seem to blend together, as if a time-line pointing backwards and forwards.
I am awed by this beautiful land that G-d has given us. Awed and grateful that I'm here.
Thank you Hashem for bringing me here, making it possible for me to enjoy the simple cluster of time that is before me each and everyday.
Oh and the reason for the title? Two donkey's by the rode, oblivious to what I see, but caught by spring.