So the synagogue I recently joined holds its Rosh Hashanah day services up on Mount Lemmon, in the Boy Scout Camp, which has an outdoor chapel surrounded by trees. Last summer, of course, much of the mountain burned in wildfires. Which meant those trees were mostly dead and brown, though they still stood. But amid the brown trees, drawing the eye, was bright, bright green ground cover. One of the wondrous things about fire is how fast the land gets down to the business of growing back, after.
Anyway, to be in a place surrounded so literally by death and new growth, singing praises to creation was–beyond words. Very right, and very much a thing that brought tears to the eyes.
May this be a shanah tovah, a good new year for us all.