Magazine article Tikkun

Wedding at Kibbutz Ginosar

Magazine article Tikkun

Wedding at Kibbutz Ginosar

Article excerpt

I sit with my two children in the Sea of Galilee; we are sifting the smooth bottom gravel for snails. Banana fields cover the hill flanks with a green haze-like flame. When we find a tiny shell we peer in-the mud of life is there, pulsing. It retreats when we touch, hesitates at the bottom of the shell. Everything in this valley is almost dead or almost ripe. Five ants crawl through the green-yellow high grass between banana fields, leaving a trail of eggs. They march through villages abandoned in the war, past dark glades in the swamps drained by the founders. Our togs hang

in the changing room where the founders once washed off their sweat, where they folded coarse towels, laughing heroically, urinated against the tile wall. Wind lifts the white tablecloths on the lawn and tosses the eucalyptus leaves. I hear the clink of glasses, as if the great wedding party were about to begin. Two lifeguards stagger out onto the pier beneath a large sign woven from bulrushes. At dusk they will set it afire, shout congratulations. …

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