A Good Sign
Israelis and Swedes don’t have all that much in common, but one thing they do share is the obsession with the end of summer. However, their respective takes on this event are quite different.
Swedes fear the fall as the plague, and go into heavy denial mode toward the end of August, stubbornly going to the beach, muttering about arboreal decease when the leaves on the trees start turning yellow and falling off, and insisting on having dinner outdoors, even though they can already see their own breath.
Israelis, on the other hand, can’t wait for summer to move on and sometimes declare the arrival of the fall as prematurely as September. They rally a whole range of signs to prove their point: the end of the summer vacation on September 1, the arrival of the first migrating birds on their way to Africa from Europe and the changing back to winter-time a few days before Yom Kippur, just to mention a few.
All of these are, of course, nothing but wishful thinking and in the best of cases only vaguely connected to the meteorological reality.
However, yesterday I actually observed a genuine sign of the changing of the seasons: I got home from work without breaking into a sweat for the first time since April.
Entry filed under: Life.