I love the Golan Heights.
Especially at sunset.
Chezi called at 4:00 pm-ish asking if I could pick him up a few miles down the road.
He had just finished working at the winery where he’s filling in for our dear friend and neighbor who’s the head kosher winemaker.
He’s currently on reserve duty, in Gaza.
Shishi and I picked him up then together we drove to meet up with Batya who was out for a sunset walk with the dogs at a local wellspring called Maayan Yedidiah.
It’s a little slice of heaven on earth just outside of our moshav.
Next time you come for a visit, remind me to take you there.
We drove down a dirt road I rarely have occasion to travel. Generally I walk or take a bike through the fields.
The sun was just starting its decent.
The sky was pink and lavender over fields of green and gold.
It was a perfect afternoon; crisp fall air and the smell of wet earth.
Gd’s backyard.
Harley (our Rhodesian Ridgeback) was so excited to see us she cried.
She ran through the mud and waded through a huge puddle shaking with delight.
Comanche tried her best to keep up. She was happy to see us too, bouncing around like the puppy-goof ball she is.
We stepped on thick stones wedged deep into the creek so we could cross over to the spring.
Chezi held Shishi’s hand to help her find balance.
We sat at a bench next to the spring and watched the dogs run and chase and dig and play.
We laughed at how silly they are.
We delighted in how happy they make us.
We all piled into my Duster, muddy dogs and all, as the sun sunk deeper into the horizon.
A fire orange sky with sheets of blue, pink, purple, indigo, wisps of white.
I let Chezi drive us home, off-road. He has his driver’s test in the next couple of weeks.
He was confident, steady, shifting gears and handling the boulders and the mud on the back roads like he’s been doing it for years.
It’s so fun to ride shotgun when you’re kids know how to drive well.
Shishi DJ-ed and played this song. The singer, Narkis, wrote this about the place where she grew up, Gush Katif (a thriving Jewish community that is today Gaza).
“Years passed and nothing remained of it.
Foxes walked in my old room .
I still hear the sea roaring in its waves
As I say, I have not forgiven and I will never forget.If the Gates of Generosity lock,
The Gates of the Highest of Heights will not lock.”
The northern Golan stretched out before us as we drove home.
We listened to music together
with the snow dusted Hermon mountain range to our north (a border to both Lebanon and Syria)
and the sun set glowing green and gold over the rolling hills of the Golan to our west.
The puppy fell asleep on Batya’s lap, Harley sat in the middle like a person.
It was a really lovely afternoon.