Skyline [antikvár]

B' This is the Land This is the Land. Without words. A thousand forms, a thousand colors, watercourses, highways, domes, twists and tums. You can see the fissure line, the skyline, the lightline, and the watershed line. The Land from overhead: a land without sky. The Jordan, the Yarqon, the Rift Valley, the Arava Wilderness, the Crater. A mountain riven, a falling shadow, a dry watercourse. Sprinklers, a blossoming field. 0 my land, my homeland, a Stony bald mountain. This is the land. And the beauty, itself an interplay of form and color, the abstract portrait, the abstract of nature, the music emanating from the mouths of the watercourses, the mountain saddles, the crest, the tel. This is the land. Even if you've crisscrossed it, north-south, east-west, sometime in your life; With your Scout troop, in the army, with friends, with your children, Even if you've crossed it with a map at your side and a steering wheel in your hands - Only if you see it from above Will you fathom how God contemplates it. Yoram Taharlev