The water was turquoise, cold, and calm. Like an energetic eight-year-old, I dropped my gear and raced into the ocean, tears of joy mixing into the salty brine. The gentle waves held me buoyant; I was not my age, my weight, or my compromised knees and hips. After ten minutes of mindlessness, I staggered back to the blanket, collapsed onto my side, and contemplated how little I needed to acquire a state of bliss. This was, for me, bliss.

Israelis know how to party; they know how to barbecue and picnic, and they really know how to “Beach.” Throughout the grainy expanse of this Nature Society site, entire families and groups of friends had set up aluminum tables filled with fruits, sandwiches, and all kinds of drinks and snacks. Ronney and I attempted to appear content with our hard-boiled eggs and cut vegetables, hastily tossed into used restaurant containers, but it was useless. Our refreshments were pathetic, and we ate rapidly.

Only a........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)