Last night was the annual Shabbat service at the beach, when the assembled multitudes, or at least a portion of the congregation, troop down to North Laguna at a small seaside park, consuming a picnic supper and enjoying a short service in sight of the ocean. Pelicans flew over as we ate and chatted, and the thundering surf boomed in the background, providing a fit accompaniment for our otherwise a capello prayers and songs.
The Rabbi and cantor brought their now full grown sheepdog to the service, tying her up on a short leash that was not, as you may imagine, at all popular with the large dog, anxious to race around and roll on the grass. Some handy children were appointed to take the dog for a long walk, and indeed disappeared so thoroughly that when the service ended, it was hard to find them so the dog and her owners could go home. As for me, I took my flashlight and found my way back to the car, parked on Robin's street. I stopped in for a short visit, then drove the long way home, marveling at the large amount of traffic still on the road.
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