Home

Whenever I come back to Israel, no matter how long I was gone, it feels like home again. Despite any reservations I may have, political, cultural and others, when we start the drive home from the airport I find my place again. Like a piece of a puzzle, things fall into their right place. I love the pass of Sha'ar Hagay, I feel happy when I first see the slopes of the Jerusalem mountains - home. And then there is the sun, the Israeli sun that is so different than the Bostonian sun - it is yellow at best, white at most and so bright your eyes hurt. A good strong sun - makes you know you are alive (though probably sweating and swearing).

Boston feels like home by now, I am no longer a complete stranger there, but it still feels different. It is not only because Hebrew is my language or that my family is here - it is the landscape itself that fills me with a feeling that is hard to describe. It comes to me sometimes when I am in Boston, suddenly I am swept with a feeling of yearning to the streets of Tel Aviv, or the mountains of Eilat, or Jerusalem. I guess there is something to the saying "האדם הוא תבנית נוף מולדתו" of Shaul Tsarnichovsky, I guess I am just the mold of my homeland's landscape, because it feels so right to be back.

The view from our back yard