A couple days of magnificent weather have been a welcome respite from the bounty of precipitation during Sukkot and the closing festival days. This morning, we stored away our sukkah — unscathed by the nor’easter — for next year.

The deck seems empty. Oh, the table and chairs will stay out a little longer; perhaps a few days of Indian summer? The remnants of the fall festivals are some leftovers in the fridge and two etrogim exuding sweet scent from a bowl on the living room coffee table.

A rabbinic colleague (our daughter, Rabbi Aviva Fellman) asked when I would take a few days off to recharge from the demands of the first two weeks of 5787. I told her that it would have to wait until we head up to Massachusetts for her son’s bar mitzvah service in November. (Why wait? Gearing up for the new Galeem year, readying the garden patch for winter, recording notes to improve next year’s services, catching up on reading … and much more.)

Preparing for the Days of Awe and Sukkot/Shemini Atzeret/Simchat Torah is demanding, and the services and events were energized. In particular, the spirit in the sanctuary on Rosh Hashana was joyful and uplifting. How wonderful that we can ponder remorse and repentance and welcome the new year with exultation!

As Ellie and I have been doing of late, when a family event summons us to Massachusetts (all our grandchildren live there), we look for a B&B in the area or along the route. A couple of days, even just one night, will break up the travel; a little two-getherness before we happily hop onto the delightful splash pad of family celebration.

It might be past peak foliage in New England by the time we get there. However, having lived in Cambridge for a few years before moving to Philadelphia, we remember fondly the rich warm New England colors of ochre, burnt orange, cinnamon, rust and scarlet.

Now, it’s time to find the bin with the wool sweaters. Soon enough, cotton just won’t cut it!



*chol = quotidian time (not festival or Shabbat)