This Golan field calls me from afar. An untouched yearning pulls me in. Maybe it is the soft distant clouds or the lone eucalyptus tree in full bloom, or the warm undercurrent of soft dry air on this late summer day, or maybe it is the rocky uneven fields, or the flowers like weeds growing in wild surrender, or maybe it is the empty, untouched terrain, or the stillness where quiet hissing sounds of hidden insects can be heard, or maybe it is the lonely thoughts that quietly enter my heart, or maybe it is because I am in Israel and the land and the air and the place and the tree remind me that I am home, that I am free.
