46 "Living" Water

On a trip to the north I got as far as "Selukia Spring" in the Golan Heights which provides water for one of the water bottling firms. I drank to my heart's content of the sweet, cold water – it was a pleasure. But at the pumping station "Sapir" near the Kineret, I heard that bottled water is no better than the water that flows from all the taps in the country; the only difference is the taste, because of the chlorine that is added to the water that reaches our homes.

How did they manage to convince us to refuse to drink tap water and to consume only bottled water which is a thousand times more expensive? It is indeed true that chlorine somewhat spoils the taste, and the neglected pipes in many places in the country (among them those near my home) cause dirt and rust to enter the water. But it would have been possible to overcome these difficulties by improving the local water infrastructure or by means of filterization. If that is so, why don't the authorities deal with the problems of the local water systems? Apparently for the lack of funds.

And what is even more frustrating is that the money we pay the water bottling companies would easily suffice to solve the problem if it was used to improve the water infrastructure. I read that in California people have begun to drink tap water again for environmental reasons. Why don't we follow in California's footsteps? The water from the Selukia spring is wonderful, that's true. But in order to drink it at home or in a restaurant would require a large distribution network which would pollute the environment. And add to this the problem of plastic bottles.

After all this, let's return to the spring. Although the little spring in the picture is man made, it is impossible to remain indifferent to the magic of gushing clear, pure water flowing between basalt rocks. Note the clean, dry rock on the side of the spring and observe the fresh color of the wet rock.

45 Gan Itin

A two minute walk from my home, on an elongated shaped square which had been a bit rundown, a beautiful playground appeared: 'Gan Itin'. In the afternoon hours children, parents and grandparents meet to enjoy happy hours and adventures (for the children) and peaceful contentment (for the adults).

When they come close to the playground, the children let go of the hands of the adults and run ahead enthusiastically. But when they reach the first amusement device and see an unfamiliar child, they stop and wait. Curiously they watch the other children and look back to see if their mothers or grandfathers are not too far away. With a little encouragement they climb carefully, still intensely watching the older child as he slides down the slide and they freeze in place as he finishes doing so, dashes by them, climbs up again and overtakes them on his way to slide once again. Finally they get up courage and approach the slide, they slide down – and suddenly wide smiles appear on their faces and they run for another turn, shrieking for joy and calling out to each other. The mothers on the benches easily converse with each other or nurse their babies and only rarely do they become tense when they seem to detect a dangerous move.

When I look at the beautiful play facilities and the happiness of the playing children, I remember another day in the 1950s, the day the Kibbutz put up a park of such facilities for "Children's Day". In those days we hardly knew what a playground was. Our games were simple but very imaginative. Sticks, stones, old screws and pieces of wire were enough for us to play with. But the day that the slides, the ladders, the carousels and other wonders appeared in the Kibbutz, young and old alike – all were overwhelmed by excitement. At first we couldn't believe our eyes as we saw all these wonders but until the allotted hour we were not allowed to go near them. And then, suddenly everyone went wild on merry-go-rounds, swings and see-saws. Even when it grew dark we couldn't tear ourselves away from the new marvel.

When I look at the jubilant children in "Gan Itin" I am reminded of that feeling of wonder on that distant day. What an adventure a merry-go-round is and what happiness is a slide.

44 Jonah in the Belly of the Big Fish

Again we met, a group of friends, and discussed the "Book of Jonah". These get-togethers have already become a Yom Kippur tradition. The hosts choose a subject related to Yom Kippur and each participant draws upon his own world in order to contribute to the discussion. Here are some of the things I said as well as some after thoughts.

It is almost possible to understand the story of Jonah without recourse to God. Jonah is a man with a mission. Is there anyone who does not know a person who believes that he must do some great deed and whose entire life revolves around delaying his commitment or making any progress toward doing so. Jonah flees from his life's mission; he wants to forget it or at least to distance himself from it. But mortal danger at sea is responsible for an upheaval. The story of Jonah's slumber on the ship about to sink is wonderful and without explanation. Perhaps there is a hint here that the story or at least part of it is a dream. And perhaps the sleep is a sort of meditation, a mystic concentration before leaving the body on the way to other worlds. That is also an explanation of Jonah's "existence" in the body of the fish, that is, a sort of dream or mystic experience.

In any event Jonah's experience at sea is a revolution that changed his life. He fled to the sea as a hermit flees to the desert; nevertheless something returned him to his life's mission. What was that something?

Someone in the group asked why Jonah of all people was chosen for this mission (to call upon the people of Nineveh), and my answer is simple. A man's mission is his, and only his. Jonah's Nineveh is none else's Nineveh. Perhaps in the belly of the fish Jonah read the story "Before the Law" by Kafka and realized that his Nineveh is his entrance to the Law that was intended only for him and would close when he died. And he did not want to die like the villager before the closed entrance. Perhaps that understanding caused his drastic change.

And one more word about false prophecy. The fear of being a false prophet is mentioned in the story as a reason for Jonah's reluctance toward assuming his mission. But the one who alarms and warns and in that way is able to change and postpone a catastrophe – and his grave prophesies do not take place – perhaps he is the true prophet.

43 Paradise in Heaven and on Earth

In the period between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, when the Day of Atonement is approaching and Jews reflect on their deeds in the past year and resolve to mend their ways, many of them quote the traditional poetic description to the effect that He who dwells in Heaven judges mankind the way a shepherd judges his flock and decides who will live and who will die, who by water and who by fire – and they ask for mercy so that they may have a good life that ends in paradise.

Paradise – the image of good, of plenty, the wonderful and the miraculous – has assumed many forms also in the descriptions of this world and one of them is the name of the lovely flower that blossomed this week in my garden. Two beautiful flowers of the "Bird of Paradise" grace the entrance to my house and another two are about to bloom in the next few days. There are those that seek paradise in heaven or in the mythological past, and others who are content to make do with what they find in this world – the revelation of beauty and glory.

The images of paradise in the heavens and on earth can be stretched a bit more to ask the question whether it is preferable to seek beauty and goodness in distant worlds or on earth, even near our own home; and should we rely on the powers of the Almighty who would mend the world as He would or should we aspire to improve the world with our own meager resources. To this question is added yet another – whether it is even possible to repair the world – that is to say, ourselves – without the idea of a Perfect Being that everything is directed towards and judged by.

These days, between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, one could consider the question, where do we stand in the continuum between the sky and the earth, between paradise and the 'Bird of Paradise', between the record in the 'Book of Life" and the ability to enjoy the world around us and to concern ourselves with improving and beautifying it.

42 New Moons of Chaos

On New Years day (Rosh HaShana) the twelve months cycle ends and we are accustomed to enumerate the months of the year and assign them symbols. Look at the beautiful image in the photo. It is part of a page of a Hebrew manuscript from Poland from the year 1640. The heading reads "Moladot Shel Thohoo" (Moons of Chaos) and on the relief itself, in the right hand column, is a list of all the months of the year. But what is the meaning of all the rest? What do the other three columns signify? And what are the "Moons of Chaos"?

Wise men debated the question whether the age of the world dates from the creation of man or from the creation of the world. After all, according to the first chapter of Genesis, man was created on the sixth day of the creation of the world, and according to tradition – on Friday the 1^st of Tishrei (the first month of the year). It follows therefore, that the world was created on the 25^th of Elul (the last month of the year). It must therefore be that the world itself was also created on the 1^st of Tishri. The logical conclusion is that the world was created a year before the creation of man. Due to these considerations we have two chronologies for the world: a chronology for the creation of man which wise men called the "chronology of man" or "chronology from the beginning of time", and a chronology for the creation of the world which wise men called "chronology from the beginning of chaos" – since that was the beginning of the chaos from which the world was created. The chronology referred to in the Talmud is the chronology of man but in the course of time the chronology of chaos was adopted by Judaism.

The tablet in the picture, therefore, is the exact account of the birth of the months. The three rows to the left of the names of the months indicate the birth of the months (new moons) according to the day of the week, the hour and the part of the hour (the hour in this system is divided into 1080 parts). These calculations were extremely important in order to determine the Hebrew calendar and the leap years, and heated disagreements over these matters were not unusual.

The eventual victory of "Moons of Chaos" over the "chronology of Man" is interesting – victory whose meaning was a decision in favor of the concept that does not place man in the center but assigns him a more modest role as part of the world. Although man is the crown of creation he is not the measure of all things.

41 The End of Summer

I have hiked much in the mountainous regions and here I am again, on my bicycle, amongst the orchards and fields near my home. The sun is low on the horizon and soon it will fall into the sea. The uncultivated brown fields are still covered with withered thorns but other fields have already been prepared for sowing. The furrows are fresh and the dark soil has been shaped into a huge chocolate bar. Sprinklers are refreshing the soil and only the broad paths are as yet one gigantic sand box, and that is how they will remain until the arrival of the first rain of the season. It is very hot and the humidity is heavy. I pedal on looking around me and suddenly, next to the road – an entire field of Chazavim (squill). I stop suddenly as if struck by lightening: summer is over – the Chazav is blooming.

I remember the childhood feeling of time, or more correctly the timeless feeling in which it seems that summer lasts almost eternally. Backwards it extended to the distant past before the beginning of the long summer vacation and forwards – it seemed that it would last forever. Even today I feel that self same refusal to believe that that eternal present – of sea, swimming pool and watermelon – could end. True, the calendar says that it is already September and soon the holidays will be upon us, but that is nonsense. The calendar is just so many paper pages – and the sun is the sun. Therefore when I am suddenly confronted with the white sign, the Chazav, standing tall by the side of the road, I get all excited. Because the Chazav is reality. A reminder that can no longer be denied: Summer is over.

When it is warm and I am in shorts and an undershirt, I find it hard to imagine the cold winter, and in winter I can't imagine the summer heat. I know that the seasons come and go. Nevertheless I refuse to believe that a different time of the year is possible at any moment. How does the change take place? How does the arrow of time pass from one point to another? I reject any such possibility – but then the Chazav confronts me and says: here, it has already happened. Summer is over.

40 My Scooter

This is my scooter. I use it for short trips – to the swimming pool, routine arrangements and shopping. I also ride on it in winter and even enjoy doing so. I have an excellent wind breaker suit, a wool scarf and leather gloves – which is sufficient for Israel's mild winters. But the real pleasure is going on it to the sea in summer. I take a good book with me (or a book that I need to evaluate), load my telephone with two items from "The New York Times Book Podcasts", place a bottle of water or sometimes cold beer in a backpack, tie the seat to the scooter and set out.

At the seashore scooter parking is free. I pass the automobile barrier easily and reach the parking lot of Sdot Yam's sailing club near the seashore. I like to sit on the bank of the Kibbutz Sdot Yam Bay, north of the boat club. It isn't crowded there and the sea is like a gigantic swimming pool surrounded by arms of flat rocks. I watch the many surfboard riders gliding diagonally either away from the shore or toward it and marvel at their dexterity. I watch the children returning from the sea in little boats, pushing and pulling them onto wagons and dragging them ashore.

When I get tired of sitting near the water I go for a refreshing swim and then take my customary walk – south to the power station or north to the Port of Caesarea.

The picture shows my scooter fully equipped and ready to go. The backpack is already in the storage compartment, the chair is strapped in place and presently the helmet will be on my head. The key is lying next to the helmet. See you at the seashore.