ISRAEL: Snapshots of a sunny afternoon

Israelis appreciate the outdoors. Little nooks and crannies that would go unnoticed in bigger, greener countries are often embraced like treasures. For the sake of proportion, Yosemite National Park is nearly 1,200 square miles. It fits into Israel (within the '67 borders) roughly 6 1/2 times; the park is twice the size of the West Bank and Gaza, and three times that of the Golan Heights.

The hills around Jerusalem conceal in their folds endless nature sites, charming green hide-outs just a stone's throw away from malls and pavement.

Yeshiva students ride their bicycles along the wadi, prayer fringes peeking beneath the shirttails of white button-downs, their teenage cheeks flushed with effort and probably more sun than the hard-studying boys are used to. Urban cyclists whiz by on state-of-the-art biking gear, offering water in riders' camaraderie. A random sample of Israelis: accessorized SUVs and piece-of-junk cars, serious hikers and a few happy-go-lucky dudes. All heading to or from the same place: the spring at the bottom of the valley.

"The spring" is small. Very small, even. But in the land of one lake, any body of water is an attraction. 

A dozen friends have driven an hour and a half from a southern religious kibbutz to spend their weekend at the site, and show enviable military-like efficiency in using the remaining 90 minutes before the sabbath to set up their campfire. Two little boys in bathing suits climb into the spring's arched rock pool; another scales the mulberry tree that grows beside it, a wondrous and unruly titan of a tree tempting visitors with its berries. A bunch of perfect strangers are sharing an odd intimacy, unlikely in another setting.

The spring is one of several tucked away in the area. Some have been taken over by religious circles who have turned them into a mikveh, a ritual bathing pool; others are in disrepair.

But this one is in better shape than others. The tiny site has been cleaned up and restored by a group of young Israelis in memory of their two friends -- Uri Grossman, killed in Lebanon in August 2006, and Kiril Golenshein, killed in Gaza a few months later.

Looking up the rocky hill towering above the wadi, one can see the furthermost houses of Mevasseret Zion, home to novelist David Grossman, Uri's father.

A small wooden plaque is fixed into the rocky wall of the riverbed, and an Israeli flag. Saplings of fruit trees have been planted, modest statements. A metal box nearby contains laminated information about the two boys, inviting people to leave comments. Many hikers don't really have pens on them, and if they do, well, there's no paper. In typical improvisation, visitors have taken to leaving their comments on stones at the site, writing with whatever they can, even leftover campfire charcoals.

Some afternoons are just memorable, for no reason in particular. A snapshot of an Israeli afternoon.

-- Batsheva Sobelman in Jerusalem.

Top: The spring's small rocky pool, water level going down a moment before a dry summer.

Middle: Wooden plaque in memory of Uri and Kiril.

Bottom: "We remember"; visitors leave their comments on rocks.

Click to enlarge images.

Credit: Batsheva Sobelman/Los Angeles Times

Comments

[Helena Cobban]

I'm interested in your spatial math. If Yosemite fits into Israel 6.5 times and is twice the size of the West Bank and Gaza combined, that would make Israel 13 times the size of the WB&G? But it is not. In fact, Israel is about 3.2 times the size of the WB&G.

Even at this disproportion between the sizes of the two terrains, though, it is amazing that Israelis want everyone else in the world to accept that bite even more land out of the WB&G for themselves, leaving only the remnants for the eight million Palestinians (including their exiles.)