Snapshots of a fallow land and its faithful people
The heat will reflect off the brown earth the way asphalt shimmers on a hot afternoon, and the sky overhead will be a fierce gray.
Driving down Route 40 to the Egypt-Gaza border on a spring morning, the desert hasn’t yet moved in; all around is soft, undulating green. The knowledge that the vistas will disappear like a mirage is what gives them their fragile beauty.
As Be’er Sheva and Nachal Gerar flash past, like a tour of Avraham Avinu’s life, it’s easy to get lyrical about the scenery.
But under the surface of this postcard landscape, something truly poetic is happening.
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