Shifting on Wobbly Legs

Sunday, January 29, was the official end to Israel’s ceasefire with Hezbollah. Yet the ‘war pot’ remains on the stove, simmering away on a low heat. The refugee family that was living here has returned to their northern border home and is rebuilding a life among debris.

Yet nothing feels resolved or safe. In a way, it feels worse. Danger, in the form of Hezbollah terrorists and its right arm (the Lebanese army), still lurks right on the Lebanese-Israeli border. Hamas terrorists and murderers serving multiple life sentences are being released from Israeli jails into Judea and Samaria thanks to the hostage ‘deal.’ Gazans are celebrating a victory, parading terrified Israeli hostages like booty to a frenzied crowd. Iran is going nuclear, Turkey is flexing muscles and mobilizing in Syria, and Syria’s new President went to al-Qaeda finishing school.

Evil spreads and the madness continues. The Houthis are trigger happy and the Egyptians just tried to smuggle weapons into Israel via a drone. Qatar, a wolf in fancy clothing, is playing the peacemaker, while on the other side of the negotiating table is Trump’s Special Envoy to the Middle East, a real estate mogul who was bailed out by the Qataris themselves. And I am not even going to mention Israeli politics. It is dismal.

And here I am in my vegetable patch trying to make sense out of this topsy turvy world. As I sit planting seedlings and weeding, I search for solace in the plants and soil below my knees. Yet I am also seeing mayhem in the natural world.

We are in a drought here in Israel. Hardly any rain has fallen this winter and the days are starting to heat up. We have had to irrigate the trees and vegetables all winter long and the fruit trees are flowering too early. I even spotted a few dreaded aphid infestations on our kale and cabbage – way too early according to my calculations. The spring bulbs that delight us each winter with their showy colors have not had enough water to come out of hibernation. 

The cranes are migrating south to Ethiopia, an unusual and jarring site for the end of January. I look up at them with worry, an anxious mom who knows they will never make it home on time. By the time they make it to Ethiopia, they will have to turn around and fly all the way back to Russia.

The Hula Valley Reserve reports that the number of migrating cranes that rest there has decreased by 70 percent, most likely due to the rockets, explosions, and fighter planes. The cranes could be stressed, just like me. Each evening, masses of cranes fly northeast over our house, which is not the way to Africa.

The Middle East may be on an explosive trajectory and climate change may be worrying, but there is also the issue of moving magnetic poles. In the past, the North Magnetic Pole has been moving at a slow pace of 10 kilometers a year. Recently, it has accelerated, moving from Canada to Russia at a speed of 50 to 60 kilometers a year. This too is confusing our cranes. I hope they find their way – and I pray we too find our way out of this turbulence.

This may all sound negative but it is the raw truth. In this moment, the world is literally shifting on wobbly geopolitical, natural, and spiritual legs. The madness and lies may be pervasive, but being respectful and finding positive sparks in others goes a long way.

And then there are moments of gratitude. Despite the lack of rain, the usually parched ground is coated in a verdant green. Hundreds of nasturtiums are now blooming in our garden. Our ducks and chickens happily roam through the high lush grass and an artichoke, the most beautiful flower of all, is about to bloom.