I discovered a few things on our drive up to Tsafed and Hermon. One, that the Shulamith could not see Hermon from Jerusalem, and two, she would have had to see the Hermon and the mountains of the north, the Lebanon to know how to use the right words, evoke the right imagery. Mountains like Hermon are godlike, goddesslike. We drove up the mountain where Tsafed nestles like a tibetan monastery, its so high, cold, clear. The same afternoon we drove to Hermon, through Neve Ativ, and up through Magdal Shamms. We pitched a tent at the side of Lake Ram. It was clear, cool, still. But over night she blinked her eyes and snorted her nose and there were gales, squalls, thick, dark clouds that seemed to slam into the mountain side. She didnt move. She was implacable and capricious.
Shulamith has this gargantuan capriciousness. She is a mountain dweller, I could see why Zapphon, the north, the mountain, Hermon, lair of leopards is her home. White face, storm priestess. On the side of that mountain I felt like Moshe - small, terrified, as short-lived and insignificant as a butterfly.
Some brave soul carved out a fortress on the flanks of Hermon. Nimrod castle, amazing construction of stone. Not without some traces of beauty in its carving. A decorative fountain, vaulted ceilings, the marmeluke lion. Sitting like a tick on a dog, still standing even though her caliphs have been reduced to dust... now the perpetual home of a tribe of coneys!!
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