On the way in and out of Jerusalem, there`s a hill on the side of the traffic-clogged highway down which cascade the empty shells of crumbling houses abandoned by their inhabitants many years ago.
In spring the almond trees they planted in that valley still blossom and, despite its dilapidation, the place still has incredible, forlorn beauty.
I have often wondered about the few lights that can be seen winking below when it`s dark. Knowing it`s become a place of refuge makes one feel a little better about it. |
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