Train up to Jerusalem -- almond trees blooming

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February 16 was National Almond Day, or so the American calendars tell me.
And indeed when I rode the train up to Jerusalem yesterday the almond trees were blooming like crazy!
Must be the rare winter heat wave Israel is having this week, with temperatures in the mid 80s (30 C).
On both sides of the train, in this small section, is the famous terraced agriculture of the Arab village Battir inscribed in 2014 as a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Wikipedia tells the curious history like this:

In the 20th century, Battir's development was linked to its location alongside the railroad to Jerusalem, which provided access to the marketplace as well as income from passengers who disembarked to refresh themselves en route. During the 1948 war, most of the villagers had fled, but Mustafa Hassan and a few others stayed. At night they would light candles in the houses, and in the morning they would take out the cattle. When nearing the village, the Israelis thought Battir was still inhabited and gave up attacking. The armistice line was drawn near the railroad, with Battir ending up just meters to the east of Jordan's border with Israel. At least 30% of Battir's land lies on the Israeli side of the Green Line, but the villagers were allowed to keep it in return for preventing damage to the railway, thus being the only Palestinians officially allowed to cross into Israel and work their lands before the Six-Day War.

One almond tree among many olive trees.
This was the sunny view at 8:55 in the morning.
(You can enlarge the photos for a closer view, don't forget.)

The same spot but at 4:30 pm, on my way back, when most of the valley of Nahal Soreq was in the shadow of the mountains.

It is a fabulous train journey, meandering partly through a steep canyon with Soreq River running at the bottom, parallel to the railroad tracks!
I'll show you more of that part soon, inshallah.
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(For ABC Wednesday F is for fabulous.)
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Green grasses in Noguchi's garden

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While at the Israel Museum for yesterday's Purim celebrations, I took some time to get away from it all, walking down to the quiet lower slopes of the art garden.
For the first time I took a close look at Negev, a row of limestone discs, each 2.8 meters in diameter.
Polish artist Magdalena Abakanowicz created this installation in 1987.

 But soon I found myself immersed more in Mother Nature's winter artwork.
An almond tree was shedding its white gentle petals at the foot of the giant round stones.

The natural boulders and flowers were just like on the ancient terraces of the Jerusalem Hills.

Under the olive and pine trees, cyclamens were all over the place.
Even the rosemary bushes were blooming.

Back home I see that my WizeGuide book explains the "sculpted garden" thus:

For the five-acre (16-dunam) "sculpture" that he created for the Israel Museum, Isamu Noguchi used dramatic contrasts, which are known as harmonic combinations in Japanese culture . . .
He used concrete, which is artificial stone, and natural Jerusalem stone; simple local vegetation and paths made of delicate gravel imported from Japan. 

All I know is that, alone in the garden, I felt peaceful solitude, happy to be in nature yet in holy Jerusalem at the same time. 
And grateful for this winter's generous rains that enable us to see green for a few months of the year, before the spring and summer sun bake it into a dry brown.
Hmm . . . perhaps it was those harmonic combinations that both excited and calmed me.
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(The post "Green grasses in Noguchi's garden" is for ABC Wednesday  G-Day.)
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Fleeting beauty

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I wish the white almond blossoms in our Jerusalem Hills would stay forever. 

You can enlarge the pictures with a click and then another click.
Only the fragrance I can't share with you.
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(For OurWorld Tuesday.)

Snow followed by almond blossoms

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Those puffs of white and pink?   
Yes!--they are almond blossoms!
The trees on the mountain are starting to bloom.
Click once or twice on the photo and feast your eyes. 

And to think, just 25 days ago that same view across the valley looked like this.
Covered in snow. 

You can't help but love the Jerusalem Hills. 
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(A post for Our World Tuesday.)

My world of trees

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The almond trees are blossoming!

Right on time for their Tu BiShvat holiday.
That's the New Year for Trees that I posted about last Friday and Saturday.

It has become a custom in Israel for classes of schoolchildren to go out and plant baby trees in honor of the Birthday of the Trees.

In the week before this Tu BiShvat over 800,000 trees were planted!

The Jewish National Fund (Keren Kayemet leYisrael) is the body that manages our beloved groves, woods, and forests.

Since 1901 the JNF has planted 240 million trees!

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Please see my post about the JNF's gigantic Golden Book, dating back to 1901.

And their nice forest markers here.
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The pushke in the above photo is the famous Keren Kayemet donation box which Jewish families here and in the Diaspora always had in their homes.

It was, and is, very special to help make the barren land green.
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Growing up in Chicago I always dreamed about someday living in nature. Now it is true--I live on a little mountain surrounded by the forested Hills of Jerusalem.

Happy to say That's My World.

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Just a hop, skip, and a jump

Quantas, "The spirit of Australia," it said on my plane. Just yesterday I saw downtown Sydney looming just beyond the terminal window, and these two kangaroos were about to jump over her.

Farewell, dear Australia, full of spirit.

This afternoon, after more than thirty hours in two airplanes, I saw the shores of Israel again and Tel Aviv with her skyscrapers. The captain had just announced "We have been informed that it is forbidden to photograph Israel from the air." What's with that?!

It was hazy and a warm 23 degrees. On the road back to my village in the Jerusalem Hills all the almond trees are now white with flowers. How exciting!

How good it is to come back home.

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How Green Was My Valley

The now-white almond trees and the white boulders and terrace walls give some "relief" from the ubiquitous green of the valley.

Hashkedia porachat--the almond is blossoming

I come, I come! ye have called me long;
I come o'er the mountains, with light and song.
Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.

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From "The Voice of Spring" by John Burroughs
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