At the supermarket earlier today where we do our usual weekly shopping, there was navel oranges from South Africa and Egypt, dates from Iran, figs from Turkey, grapes from South Africa and clementines from Morocco. We usually enjoy oranges, clementines, grapes, dates, and figs. Today, we bought none of them, no dates, no figs, no navel oranges, no grapes, no clementines. These are all produce-exporting countries that express their avowed hostility to Israel, the Jewish state, and some of them threaten its existence as well.

As Jews, we have the freedom in Canada to express our own personal hostility to those who feel the Holocaust, which according to them didn't really exist, and if it did, it didn't kill as many Jews as evidence and history state, and in any event however many Jews were exterminated it simply wasn't enough. So we indulge in our own very personal boycott; one that obviously does no damage to the countries that produce the fruits that we will not eat, but which salves our sense of conscious justice.

It rained throughout the day yesterday, and when we awoke this morning it was still raining. No walk for us and our puppies in the ravine, alas. But by the time I put away all the groceries on our return home from shopping, and pre-prepared a casserole of macaroni, chopped green onions, green peas, canned salmon and a cheese choux for dinner, the rain had petered out.

So off we went into the forest, down into the ravine, for a mind-calming walk-about. A somewhat physically difficult one as it happens, since the snowpack has been both melting and softening, so that every step taken sinks deeply into the snow tamped down on the trails through the forest, and it takes far more energy to hike along under those circumstances. The creek at the bottom of the ravine is full and running furiously; two days of rain will do that.

There was a light foggy mist rising from the creek, giving a somewhat opaque albeit sheer look to the atmosphere. Jackie and Jillie were happy as always to be out in the forest, gorging themselves on newly-released aromas, some innocent enough and others quite, quite rude. One important thing we are guaranteed when we ramble through the forest, is peace of mind and scenic vistas to revel in, throughout our wonderful natural surroundings.

The amusing thing is that our street is habitually so poorly plowed by the municipality following snow storms that it is relatively more comfortable and easier making our way through the forest trails than it is wading up our street to access the entrance to the ravine. Whether driving or walking on the street one is forced to wallow in thick layers of ice and snow interspersed with rain-freed areas now presenting themselves as akin to little lakes.