The air we breathe.
We don't think about it often. The crisp evening air. The breeze ruffling her hair. Papers scattered in the wind. Footnotes to the story describing an external effect of air.
And every now and then we remember what air really is. Gasping for breath after a quick sprint. Coming up for air in the pool. A week plus of some of the worst air quality in the world.
It was only a year ago when we were face to face with the Tubbs Fire - then the most destructive fire in CA history. Now, the Camp Fire has eclipsed it, and it's not even 50% contained. In addition to the rising number of fatalities and nearly 10,000 homes burned, the effects of the fires are far-reaching. Schools closed. The Golden Gate Bridge's fog replaced with a think smokey haze.
Instead of our usual laundry list of wishes and pursuits, we simply wish for the most basic commodity; clean, fresh, life-giving, soul-nourishing air.
It reminds me of a story with Rabbi Akiva. Under Roman rule, the Jews were forbidden from gathering to study Torah. Nevertheless, hiding from the eyes of the guards, Rabbi Akiva continued to teach his students. If caught, he faced certain death.
One day, he was asked why he would risk his very life just to give the class. He answered with a parable:
A fox came to a stream and witnessed the fish hastily swimming to and fro. Inquiring about the peculiar frenzy, the fish explained that they were attempting to avoid the fishermen's' nets. "Why don't you join me on the riverbank"? asked the sly fox. "In here, we are at risk of being caught, however, if we leave the water, our fate is guaranteed".
As a fish lives in water, finished Rabbi Akiva, so is a Jew's life inspired by Torah.
The air quality will eventually get better, but let us use this moment to focus on how important our soul-nourishing values are. As the slogan goes: The Love in the Air is Thicker than the Smoke.