Inbetween

When summer is not quite over, but fall hasn’t quite began, a few special notes linger in the air in preparation of the cold seasons and as a farewell for the joyous days of yellow sun and azure skies…

The scent of back to school – new books and fresh paper, clean slates, snow-white rubber erasers and neatly sharpened cedar pencils.

The delicate scent of beach lilies, pure white, emerging from the dunes…

The powerful view of Chatzav poles – those white statues of tiny white blossoms. The bulbs of the plant contain many microscopic needles, that sting the skin when touched. Therefore, the bulbs were used to mark the borders between territories.

In contrast to all this whiteness, the blood-red tart juice of sour pomegranates, spouring their hearts and staining those white holiday clothes.

The skies are still bright. There is no rain. But there is a chill in the evenings. And you know it’s only a matter of days before the trees will paint their leaves gold and crimson – only to shed them and leave them to rot on the ground.

Photo credit: Yotam Dehan © 2006