In January 2009 in the midst of "Operation Cast Lead" and the bombings on Gaza by
the Israeli Air Force, I visited the Kibbutz where I grew up. I went to the place where
we used to play in the forest, as children. I went to the "oceans"…
The oceans is the name we gave the little rain puddles that filled up every winter in
the forest overlooking Jezreel Valley. Inside these oceans the forest, in all its celestial
beauty, reflects, to create an astonishing sight. Standing there, that January afternoon, I saw the forest shaking to the sound of Air Force bombers headed for the war.
The deep contradiction between the beauty of that magical afternoon and the sounds
of war in the background put me in a state of shock. The brutal sights of war
flickering on the television screen seemed to unite with the shivering reflections of the
forest in the oceans.
The white phosphorus shells, the valley, and sights of a childhood long gone, all shimmer in the oceans. The oceans of cast lead.
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