Oh, my, yes, like a lion. In addition to all the lovely snow and blessed rain, Jerusalem looked for a while like an umbrella graveyard. Yesterday, Ramot Shlomo- including "770"- was completely invisible, in the fog, from Har Hotzvim.
Har Hotzvim is basically just across the road from Ramot, and yesterday I took a bus to Givat Shaul after work. Maybe a quarter of an hour, all told, and that wasn't even the most direct route. Beforehand, my spouse pointed out to me that I was following the end of this past Shabbat's haftarah- Shmuel goes home to Ramot, and Shaul goes home to Givat Shaul. It's struck me previously that the text presents this as quite a distance- as if (as it seems to have turned out), they were never going to see each other again. Now? A short trip.
(It is true that modern place names don't always match- but then, what was "Givat Shaul" back then was possibly even closer to Ramot than today's.)
Today, I got one of those "loving living here" moments as I walked into the office building. Hanging from the rafters were balloons of all sorts of characters- Winnie the Pooh, Mickey and Minnie, and others. Various offices are decorated for Purim, and I (and the woman following me) had a huge smile as I ascended the stairs. Happy Purim!