Looking out my window, I see the Sukkah structure Rabbi David and the children put up this afternoon. My job starts tomorrow with pulling out the boxes of Sukkot decorations and steadying the ladder as the children climb to string up paper chains and faux fruits. While the Sukkah decorations remain about the same each year, the Sukkah always feels different from the seasons gone by. Either we have perennial amnesia, or we truly do decorate differently each time. The bottom line is that the Sukkah is always an indescribably euphoric novelty of which we never tire.

The key concept is that the Sukkah is temporary. As lovely as our homemade Sukkah starts out, it always becomes a bit ragged by the end of the week, and even though its lifespan is finite, it never fails to take over the yard, yearning for permanence. Every year the rhythm feels the exactly the same: there is a building excitement as the drill and wood pieces make the frame, the fresh scent of leaves, and the expectant rush of delight as schach