A casual day running an errand and exploring the downtown triangle of Jerusalem leads to musings on Israel.
I was trundling along a street in Jerusalem, dripping with sweat from the fierce Israel sun. Gross. It was a rough neighborhood, no charm here. Lots of garages and other things like garages… light industry kind of stuff but all old and grungy. I was looking for an art gallery I noticed on google maps and as with almost all grass-roots galleries, it would be in gungville for the low rents.
It’s evening and I am sitting in a ground floor apartment listening to the muezzin singing the evening call to pray over the loud speaker. I am so thankful that he has a most splendid voice.