So I am in London. The city is covered with a blanket of fog. I find this quite ironic - Like Moshe Rabinu viewing Israel from Mt Nevo - from the distance. As I get here after four months of longing, I cannot view, recognize or familiarize my self with this much loved city.
H who was so kind to pick me up from Heathrow after 2.5 hours of delay, suggested it might be easier this way. Its not really London, I am not really back here. The fog adds a mystical aspect to this visit. Am I really here? Is this the same city I lest four months ago? Following Heraclitus - one of my favourite philosophers - Its not, as you cannot cross the same river twice, as the river is in consistent change and its not the SAME river. His student added, you cannot cross the same river even once.