The November sun is strong, but there’s a chill in the air I hadn’t expected. Autumn has crept up from behind in its mixed-up glory, blustery clawing tendrils and floaty leaves sashaying down to earth. I berate myself for not bringing sweaters as I lock the car, strap the baby in the stroller, and cross the street toward the Haas Promenade in Armon Hanatziv, Yerushalayim.
But as I reach the lookout point and the view rises up before me, all thoughts of sweaters disappear. The city is splayed out in glistening gold and white before me. It’s breathtaking.
Har Habayis sits in the center, enclosed within the walls of the Old City, while the new city flutters like wings around it. Even my little guy is entranced. But this view isn’t why I came here today. I turn south, heading toward a park dotted with pine trees, a few minutes away.
That’s where I find what I’m looking for — a little mound of history embedded in the land of a thousand layers. Within a small enclosure in this inconspicuous area sits a shaft and reservoir that dates back to the times of the Chashmonaim. Forty-three meters below lies an ancient aqueduct that runs from Breichat Shlomo, Solomon’s Pool, located south of Beit Lechem, to Har Habayis. It’s hard to convey in words quite how far, and just how hilly, that route is, but believe me, it’s impressive.
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