A bird sanctuary in a war zone

Coming close to the end of the Spring,

Who knew what the viewing would bring.

We whispered our words

While watching the birds

And saw the kingfisher a-fish-ing

Synopsis: I’m a Family Practitioner from Sioux City, Iowa.  In 2010 I danced back from the brink of burnout, and, honoring a 1-year non-compete clause, traveled and worked in out-of-the-way places in Alaska, Nebraska, Iowa, and New Zealand.  After 3 Community Health years, I took temporary gigs in Iowa, Pennsylvania, Nebraska, Canada, and Alaska.  Since the pandemic, I worked telemedicine, a COVID-19 clinic, a VA clinic, and spots Texas, Iowa, and Pennsylvania.  Taking vacation from circuit-riding rural clinics in Iowa, Nebraska, and South Dakota, I went on vacation to Israel, and I found myself in war zone.  I’m Jewish.  I will not be writing about religion or politics.  See my post https://walkaboutdoc.wordpress.com/2010/09/13/why-i-dont-write-about-religion-politics-or-sex/ This series of posts details evacuation from Israel, and is not published in order.

Sunday in Jerusalem, 48 hours after Israel attacked Iranian nuclear sites, found us in a bird sanctuary in the heart of a very large city.

The place only covers an acre and a half, near the edge of a cemetery.  A small, peaceful oasis surrounded by noise and confusion.

Birds migrate from Africa to Europe.  Most do not attempt the long over-water crossing of the Mediterranean, instead preferring the land routes at the western end (Spain) and eastern end (Israel, Lebanon, Syria, and Turkey).  More than 500 species can be found in Israel, depending on the season. 

We came to watch with two days remaining in Spring.

The war activities disrupted the planned tour.  The Ministry of Tourism does not want concentrations of people.  Attacks cannot be eliminated, but the damage can be mitigated by limiting the number of people in one place at one time.  And thus, technically, the 11 members of our group should not be together at the sanctuary.

Nor should we have gone to an area away from a bomb shelter.  After all, we’d had 4 air raid alerts the night before.

One of our group, an ornithologist, rehabilitates birds professionally.  The night before she gave a lecture about birds in Israel and showed remarkable erudition and hands-on experience. 

Our group of 11 constituted the majority of the people present.  We sat on benches in a roofed dugout 5 paces from the edge of a tiny pond.  The trickle of the water in and out constituted the most noise; the shade of the trees, the drop in temperature, and the haven of nature in a concrete city brought our conversation to hushed whispers. 

When we sat down, a kingfisher, a bird not much bigger than my palm, perched on a branch, swallowing a tiny fish, his beak pointed skywards while he lunged his neck.

We saw 3 individual kingfishers, none further than 10 paces.  We saw one swoop to the water, skimming, and catch a fish. 

The Palestinian Sunbird amazed us, hovering like hummingbird but not closely related genetically, it still fills much the same niche and shares many remarkable adaptations. 

We thrilled for the peace and quiet and greenery even more because of the context: a major city in a war zone.

Later, Bethany and I recalled the peace we’d found the year before in Texas watching hummingbirds come to feeders, ignoring us while we ate ice cream.