Every February, the northern Negev comes alive with the stunning red blooms of flowers (in English, anemones, but this name seems more appropriate to Finding Nemo than the Negev Desert). The flowers permeate forests, open fields, and backyards, and Israelis from all over head south to see the flowers and snap a few pics for their Instagram accounts (guilty). So, last weekend a few roommates and I chose to partake in this time-honored tradition by making the trek down south ourselves.
On Friday, we took a train to Sderot, a small town in the Western Negev right on the border with Gaza. We then caught a bus to a small kibbutz called Kibbutz Be’eri. Unbeknownst to us, there was a bike race going on at the kibbutz that day, so we alighted from the bus into full-blown family fun mode: kids, parents, and professionals alike whizzing past us toward bike trails all over the area. It was great fun, though—we made our way to the bike store, where we found a place to stash our belongings and got recommendations for the best places to see the calaniyot.
And with that, we set off, following bike trails on foot to a sprawling open meadow. Unfortunately it was a bit early in the season so there weren’t as many calaniyot as we’d hoped, but we enjoyed a great hike through the grassy hills of the Negev. The terrain was flat enough that we were even able to catch a few glimpses of Gaza. It was a confusing feeling, watching a city from afar with knowledge that you will never be able to go there. To be honest, it struck me as a bit ironic. We were standing in an idyllic meadow, surrounded by wildflowers, staring at one of the most fraught and politically contested areas in the world. Such is Israel—tremendous beauty alongside unfathomable complexity and conflict.
a look out over the meadow. gaza's buildings are faintly visible on the horizon.
After our hike, we returned to the kibbutz for some local hummus and beer, then took a taxi to our lodgings for the night: the home of Tamara, our program director, on a moshav close to Kibbutz Be’eri. For those who don’t know, a moshav is a small agricultural community found mostly in the Negev and rural areas up north. In the States, one would liken a moshav to a farm town in West Michigan, or a fishing town in California (pre-drought, that is). We spent a lovely Friday evening with Tamara and her family, and were happy to go to bed early after our long day of adventure.
from the moshav's fields. houses are in the distance and that rainstorm is looming overhead!
The next morning we headed out bright and early to beat the rainstorm forecasted for the early afternoon. We traversed the back 40 of the moshav, heading for a small forest just beyond the fields. There we found a scene that lived up to the Darom Adom hype! Thousands of pristine calaniyot flowers blanked every inch of the ground, stretching for acres. It seemed like every corner we turned was a new wave of impossible redness. It was beautiful, and totally surreal. After a few weeks in the city, it was exactly what my body and mind needed.
We hung out in the forest for a few hours, taking pictures and snacking, until the impending rain forced us to head back to Tamara’s house. We spent the rest of the stormy afternoon playing Euchre and entertaining Tamara’s two adorable toddlers, Ayala and Hadas. Then Tamara drove us to the train station, and we were off back to Lod!
some cuddle and reading time on a rainy evening
Although a brief trip, this weekend was a much needed reminder of the importance to me of getting outside, if even for a day or two. However small, this country contains myriad opportunities for wilderness. And in my remaining four months here, I intend to experience as many of those as I can.
group picture! this is on the first hike (calaniyot were present, but scarce)