When Two Waters Meet
The skies are clear looking towards Palestine. The hills of Palestine seem so much closer than before, so much more approachable. The winds tell us that there a storm coming. The winds pick up speed and tell us that a storm is coming fast from the west. The color of the sky turns green, the waters are no longer still. The clouds clash and lightning strikes. I watch in awe and in silence. The storm is coming from Palestine, and it is coming towards me.
The storm crosses the Dead Sea and blesses the land on the eastern bank of Jordan. Its power feels like the clouds have been holding their water for a while. Only a few moments later, the storm passes. Silence before, then came the fury of the storm. Now, silence again. The smell of the air and the soil change.
The calm of the storm only lasts for a moment, for the hills that look over the lowest point on earth carry in its veins the water that it could not drink. Waterfalls form and the valleys pour into the Dead Sea its muddy waters.
The Dead Sea, although much needing of water, does not accept the murky waters at first, forming a partition of color. While the waves are the same, the waters are different.
Printed on Hahnemühle Bamboo Fine Art Paper, 290 g.
40 cm x 30 cm.
The skies are clear looking towards Palestine. The hills of Palestine seem so much closer than before, so much more approachable. The winds tell us that there a storm coming. The winds pick up speed and tell us that a storm is coming fast from the west. The color of the sky turns green, the waters are no longer still. The clouds clash and lightning strikes. I watch in awe and in silence. The storm is coming from Palestine, and it is coming towards me.
The storm crosses the Dead Sea and blesses the land on the eastern bank of Jordan. Its power feels like the clouds have been holding their water for a while. Only a few moments later, the storm passes. Silence before, then came the fury of the storm. Now, silence again. The smell of the air and the soil change.
The calm of the storm only lasts for a moment, for the hills that look over the lowest point on earth carry in its veins the water that it could not drink. Waterfalls form and the valleys pour into the Dead Sea its muddy waters.
The Dead Sea, although much needing of water, does not accept the murky waters at first, forming a partition of color. While the waves are the same, the waters are different.
Printed on Hahnemühle Bamboo Fine Art Paper, 290 g.
40 cm x 30 cm.
The skies are clear looking towards Palestine. The hills of Palestine seem so much closer than before, so much more approachable. The winds tell us that there a storm coming. The winds pick up speed and tell us that a storm is coming fast from the west. The color of the sky turns green, the waters are no longer still. The clouds clash and lightning strikes. I watch in awe and in silence. The storm is coming from Palestine, and it is coming towards me.
The storm crosses the Dead Sea and blesses the land on the eastern bank of Jordan. Its power feels like the clouds have been holding their water for a while. Only a few moments later, the storm passes. Silence before, then came the fury of the storm. Now, silence again. The smell of the air and the soil change.
The calm of the storm only lasts for a moment, for the hills that look over the lowest point on earth carry in its veins the water that it could not drink. Waterfalls form and the valleys pour into the Dead Sea its muddy waters.
The Dead Sea, although much needing of water, does not accept the murky waters at first, forming a partition of color. While the waves are the same, the waters are different.
Printed on Hahnemühle Bamboo Fine Art Paper, 290 g.
40 cm x 30 cm.