Notes from the Kibbutz

A few leftover thoughts from our Kibbutz near the Golan
Heights.
We stayed in these wonderful individual cottages, each
with an outdoor deck overlooking the whole Hula valley.
The grounds were filled with peacocks, whom each evening
at dusk, would climb on the rooftops and call each other
to come watch the sunset. They would stand in absolute
silence as if participating in some sort of prayer or
ritual to hail the end of another day. It was quite a
sight to behold, and made us stop whatever we were doing
to watch along with them. The flip side of this peacock
coin was the insidious sound they made at the dawn of the
new day. They may have been beautifully silent at dusk,
but their early morning honks and squawks became nature's
unwelcome alarm.

The surrounding landscape seemed to come alive with sights
and sounds as the moon worked its way through the
star-filled night sky. Annie and I shared four minutes of
magic as a crescent moon lilted over Mt. Hermon in the
distance. It was so close, we could almost reach out and
grab it in our hands. We watched in a tranquil trance, as
this large orange glow was swallowed by the mountain.
Have you even taken a few moments out of your life to
actually watch the moon set? Better yet, and earlier in
the evening, make it a point to watch the moon rise.
I promise, you will never be the same.

The visuals that night were hard to beat, but I would be
remiss if I didn't mention the aural highlights as well.
In the distance, we heard the howling and yipping of what
I assumed must have been coyotes. At times, they sounded
as if they were within mere feet of the deck, but other
times they would call to each other from across the
valleys and ridges. Were they alerting the others to an
impending feast? Were Annie and I to be their prize?
Coyotes certainly would not have anything to do with
humans, but the sound was different enough to cause me to
guess that these vociferous creatures may be something
else. Retiring to the safety of the cabin just seemed the
right thing to do. The following morning, I learned our
noisy nocturnes were jackals!
Karla and Annie Ross