Opening Scene On a quiet Tuesday morning, I slipped away from the noise of traffic and stepped into the Judean hills. Within minutes, the sounds of the city faded, replaced by the rhythm of my own footsteps and the chirping of unseen birds. Before me stretched fields that seemed wild yet oddly patterned — a monoculture of plants, perhaps acacia or Aleppo pine, the species most often planted by the KKL.
The Land and Its Cultivators As I walked, I couldn’t help but reflect on the character of this land. It has borne figs, pomegranates, dates, olives, grapes for wine, and wheat and barley for bread across thousands of years. What struck me most is that this land always yields to those who work it. It does not bend to complaint or demand. It responds to effort. This simple truth holds wisdom for today: the land belongs to those who cultivate it.
Seasons and Energy I felt my own body reflecting the season. Shorter daylight hours left me a little more tired, undernourished, aware of how cycles of light affect our energy. In Israel, where seasons shape harvests and festivals alike, these rhythms remind us that we, too, are part of the land’s cycle.
An Invitation Every walk here is more than exercise; it’s an encounter with history, ecology, and identity. The beauty of Judean Hills lies not only in its views but in the questions it stirs: Who worked this land before us? How will we work it now? And what do we hope to pass on?