Noah's Diary- 26th Day of Realization

 

It was already close to 3 PM, when my friend came to fetch me from Modi'in.
Therefore - as expected - it was almost dark, when we arrived above the cave.
Moreover it had been raining shortly before, judging by the puddles on the road.
There was no chance to live in my cave that night,
but - just in case- my friend had brought a tent.

Instead we went to a true "AU" , and Oasis in the Desert,
an oasis, where 2000 years ago grew a plant,
which produced such fantastic perfume,
that the people here could make their living on it.

Kibbutz Ein-Gedi is - like most Kibbutzim now - privatized,
but this change didn't damage the botanical garden,
which thrives on the David Waterfalls.
I'm judging those people for diverting too much of that water-for-all to their private village..
Why should this Baobab tree grow in the Desert?

But now I indulged in sentimental solidarity with my beloved "Little Prince".
He had daily problems with his Baobab, and had to uproot its overgrowth,
just as I seem to have daily problems with my 190 steps up to the road,
and will have to clean them from fallen stones and collapsed soil every day.




Enchanted by the tree, I came closer
and there - a tiny blue bird fluttered around the gigantic stem
and led me to different views of the tree's beauty and the intricacies of its bark.

See the little bird to the left and the Sea beyond the end of the path

A guest-room to the left drowns out the bird, but on the right and below you can watch it flutter clearly

The bird now leads me in between the stems. How do I savor to watch the same thing, be it in nature or be it a meaningful movie, over and over again!

 

Where is the bird now? Oh, it lets me enjoy the composition of a threefold stem! A magnificent sight for saying Good-Bye to Bird and Baobab.

There is more to this oasis than the towering mountains over baobabs and birds.
In the dining room the first Chanukka candle has been lit before the Eve of Shabbat,
And later wonderful dishes could be chosen from an abundance which is difficult to bear.
And there are cosy rooms.

 

Except that my room bears the number 43 [not really visible here] 43 is also hidden in the number of my postal bank-account, from which every month I fetch my old-age rent from the National Security : 8943391 43 brings up 1943 and with it the tragic triptych of three killed people, who for me represent the three sides of ~~~~ my father, Siegfried Guth, killed at the age of 32, as a German (Nazi?) soldier; Sophie Scholl, the Munic student, hanged at the age of 22, with her brother and her friends, as opponents of the Nazi regime. Eva Pikova, the Jewish child, murdered at the age of 12, whose poem survived. Even now my tears well up. Yesterday in the local pool, finally a rhyming English translation came to my mind:

"No, no, my God, let's stay alive,
you must not dilute our row,
for a better morning we strive,
there will be so much work, you know!"

Before we left for the cave, we saw the sign of the carpentry. I once had caught the last glimpse of a TV documentary about the way, women in Ein-Gedi try to make a living, since no collective is taking care of this any longer. I heard, that a woman, Ronnit, had set up a carpentry. She wasn't there, but we savored this amazing composition of wood and metal , on the background of the Sea, covered by a triangle netshade which is the material I used and shall use for the pyramidal tents