Walking the dogs in the mountains above Beirut |
The weather is slowly cooling off, and way up in the mountains, early in the morning or late in the afternoon, you get caught in swirling fog. It is nice cold in the fog. When I just moved here, I thought that the grey clouds in the mountains meant it was going to rain any minute, but it never does.
Summer is running on its end. People who spent the summer
in the mountain villages are packing up to go back to Beirut; most schools are
starting this week. The villages empty again, and houses close the shutters.
A troupe of some 15 howling jackals pass my mountain
house every night around one, I wonder where they go in winter time. Snow won’t
come in for another 3 months at least, and the place is teeming with field mice
right now. The shepherds in the mountains, many of them from the other side of
the Beqaa Valley, are preparing to truck their sheep and goats back to their villages;
another month and a half and it will be too cold at night to stay here.
I count in summers, and so another year has gone by. Saturday,
another Lebanese soldier got
decapitated by ISIS. Tensions ran high in certain neighborhoods that night.
The situation got diffused at the last minute, but that’s been the case for the
past year; last minute diffusions of situations that potentially could turn
into full-scale battles. The situation used to be easier. There were enemies,
and there were friends. It was easy to identify the good and the bad guys. But
now good guys hang out with bad guys, while bad guys that beat up other bad
guys become, as a result, somehow good guys. And suddenly it is not so easy to
explain the situation anymore to someone in Holland when the baddest guy of all
becomes a good guy in retrospect, if you compare him to the new bad guys on the
block. The mood in town is not an optimistic one.
But up in the mountains, you do not notice any of that.
2 comments:
Nice pix!
Beautifull pictures, I would like to walk there!
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