We've been longing to refresh our eyes and souls with the the endless skies and wide open vistas of the desert in all its primal glory.
We are studying and working from home, but fortunate that the Negev is close enough that we are able to drive down for just a few hours after the day is done to enjoy a short hike, feel the rock and sand beneath our feet and catch a desert sunset.
We've done this twice now, once to the isolated white rocks and ruins of Nitzana, on the border with Egypt's Sinai desert, and once to Makhtesh Ramon. Makhtesh is a Hebrew word meaning spice grinder (mortar and pestle) that has come to mean the technical term for this unique type of erosion cirque found in southern Israel and the neighbouring Sinai desert. This isn't a crater caused by a meteor impact or volcanic action, but carved out by erosion. Makhtesh Ramon is the largest such feature in the world and one of my most favourite places on Earth.
We last came down here March 2, at the tail end of an exceptionally rainy winter, and the desert then was blooming and green. Now at the start of the dry season we caught the last few faded wildflowers still hanging on as the summer sun grows in intensity. A metaphor for our strange times?
I'm grateful for the urban nature around our home, the trees, birds and lizards who kept us company while confined to our home, its own survival miracle in the midst of concrete and asphalt, but I certainly missed the feeling of being out in the wilderness, the quiet, the space, the wonder of life in the harsh desert and the beauty wind, water and vulcanicity have created out of stone.
