Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Freckles are like rocks.

Israel's landscape reminds me of my freckles, small stones that pepper the landscape when driving the 443. It's so Israel, this highway, & when I drive it, I always think how friends back home think this is Israel, the Israel they see on the news . The checkpoints, the tall wall zig zagging around, protecting us from our neighbours. There is some colour on these walls. Fake paintings of arches with the sky painted on, bringing a bit of spirit to the dull gray concrete.
Then I take the highway one. Far different in character from the desert hills of the 443. The hills are greater, the grass can be green. Pine trees freckle the hills and bushes line them. The smell of manure floats into the air conditioning, a result of the kibbutz preparing their soil.
I think of Europe on the 1. I roll down the window and let my hand play with the powerful wind against it.
It's hard to believe sometimes that I have found myself in this country. More of a home to me than my own home, more of a history that my own journals. Who knew you can be born in the deserts near Mexico and become a woman in the deserts of the middle east. Perhaps it makes sense, with the stars, being born under a fire sign that, if I wasn't meant to come into a land with volcanoes, isn't the closest thing to fire the hot and humid land of the middle east?
oh, the heat.
It's so hot. I sit in it and my pores open up to breath.
What I love about driving through Israel is that no matter how many times I ride through these streets, I still look at her- this land, full of everything that defines life: Conflict, beauty, pressure, heat- and when you sit back for a second, there is still the breeze- to remind you that you are not far from the cycle of life, from that beautiful blue/green water of the Mediterranean. From this, I realize, I may have it all- wrapped up into this crazy beautiful package we call Israel.


At 8/23/2008 6:40 AM, Blogger aoc gold said...

The Arrow And The Song


I shot an arrow in the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where; ;

For so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.


I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?


Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end, ,

I found again in the heart of a friend. 。

-----by aoc power leveling


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