Israel in the summer

DVORA WAYSMAN

For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth;
The time of the singing of birds is come
And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs,
And the vines in blossom give forth their fragrance....
– Song of Songs

Summer in Israel. Every year it returns like a miracle – cloudless blue skies, golden beaches, the sea ribboned with bands of aqua and indigo. The kibbutzim and moshavim are fragrant with the scent of haystacks, now standing in the open fields. Beautiful children, released from school, fill the country – dark eyes and long, suntanned limbs.

It is summer all over the country. In the Upper Galilee, there are still carpets of wildflowers that have survived the spring and early hot days. The pendulous pink carnation dots the brown and yellow summer foliage of the dry season. The wild snapdragon hangs its purple corolla from the rocky walls of wadis and sprouts from Tzfat’s old mud-and-stone houses. The voice of the turtledove, the gentle-eyed grey bird beloved by King Solomon, can be heard cooing.

Summer is the time for reaping the rewards of the hard months of labor on the land. The vines hang heavy with juicy grapes, ripe for picking. Plump red tomatoes hide under green leaves.

The beaches of Tel Aviv may be where the action is in summer, but Jerusalem has its own charm. The shuk of Mahaneh Yehudah is a feast for the senses, with stalls piled high with plump peaches, apricots, plums, nectarines, cherries and melons. Pretty girls in light dresses contrast with the old grey stones. Twilight lingers, bringing the hot days to a refreshing close, the black velvet sky strewn with stars. Sometimes very late, from my balcony, I can hear the sound played by a talented musician who lives across the road, filling the night with music … sonatas to Gershwin and Duke Ellington. When he plays ”Mood Indigo” on his saxophone, it’s enough to break my heart.

The gardens and balconies of Beit Hakerem now are a riot of color: scarlet geraniums, pale mauve chrysanthemums and purple petunias. Downstairs, a neighbor has white-starred jasmine climbing on the walls and, at night, it releases its sensuous perfume. I remember Jerusalem poet Yehuda Amichai’s poem, “Jasmine,” that finishes:

At night I dreamed about jasmine
And the next day the scent of jasmine penetrated
Even the interpretation of the dream.

Summer is about being young. It is time for falling in love, for walking with arms entwined, of singing and dancing with the joy of just being. For those of us who have left youth behind, summer is still filled with sweet memories. Even though we know it doesn’t last, that mellow autumn will soon follow, Jerusalem summer is like a full-bodied red kiddush wine that warms the blood and lingers sweetly on the palate.

Dvora Waysman is the author of 13 books, including The Pomegranate Pendant (now a movie) and its sequel Seeds of the Pomegranate, Woman of Jerusalem (poetry), the novels Esther – A Jerusalem Love Story and In a Good Pasture, and her memoir My Long Journey Home. The books are available through Amazon, or from the author at [email protected]. Her website is dvorawaysman.com.

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