Yehudiya Nature Reserve

Today we drove to the Golan Heights and went on an incredible hike in the Yehudiya Nature Reserve. Every moment of the hike felt like an exploration, an opening. It's amazing when you get to that point of total communication with the ground you are crossing, when your body learns the dance of balance and you move swiftly across huge rocks and beneath trees and over streams.

Abba in front, the beginning:


After a while, the ground opened and we hiked down to the wadi:


At the bottom, we reached this incredible waterfall pounding with sound. Some happy people were jumping from the rocks into that great water!!!


We continued hiking beyond the waterfall, through the wadi, making our way down the trail.
Mom and Abba crossing a stream:


Continuing across great rocks...


A lunch break of pita sandwiches:


No words to describe how I felt in the arms of those trees, rocks, waterfalls!

In Israel

Stated simply, my decision to come to Israel is rooted in a desire to unearth a part of myself that has been sleeping these years that I've been reading and dreaming and planning and studying...and not doing. This is the doing.

This is supposed to be the beginning of feeling the dirt between my toes and understanding the construction of community and wandering not only with my mind but also with my feet.

Next week I will begin the Green Apprenticeship program in Kibbutz Lotan and I'm very excited! I arrived in Israel a few days ago and so far I've been traveling around with my parents, visiting my savta in the kibbutz, swimming in the Mediterranean and in the Kinneret, exploring the Galilee. The best moments have consisted of interactions with locals, which is maybe what lies at the heart of every journey: these are magical moments with the people whose names are in the ground, whose stories illustrate place and create environment, whose words come simply from a language you don't learn in books.

Yesterday we went to Horfesh, a Druze village in the north, and saw one of the most sacred Druze sites. One of their prophets, Sabalan, spread his teachings there on the top of the hill. With your arms and legs and head covered, and your feet bare, you can quietly enter Nabi Sabalan. It's incredible to be in that dark, cool place where every gesture somehow carries weight for a moment as it meets history.





We then wandered around the area and this was the view from the top, looking down at Horfesh:



We met two men who spoke with us about their community and their practices. I felt like every word was a gift. Abba spoke with them while Mom and I listened. I couldn't stop smiling because their stories were the heart of that hilltop. We were standing in an enormous, open room and every word echoed beautifully and outside the hills were stretched forever and the villages in the distance were quiet but present. Abba asked them if their parents lived in Horfesh as well. One man answered that not only his father, but his grandfather, and great grandfather, and many many grandfathers before! In fact, he said, his family had been living in Horfesh for over 400 years! Generation after generation. This man possessed a glorious, aged smile and when he laughed he looked to the floor and bent over in a gentle way. He knows home in a way I will never know home, and that fascinates me.

Standing in that huge room of echoes, looking out: