1913, Keret village
I remember a big village. On the slopes of a hill and on the other side the sea, with forest all around. On the other side of the sea there was forest too. Only not in the direction of the open sea but the bay. The open sea was hidden behind a big island. A wind blew from there, you couldn’t see it, but you knew it was there. When it was totally calm, you knew all the same. But when it turns angry, you know to hide. A river flowed down into the bay. It was also big and turbulent. The last rapids were already called the sea rapids; there were high breakers right in the saltwater. That is where the village stood, right next to all of this. Rather, the village didn’t stand but ran away from the water up the hill, like a smartly-dressed maiden. In the summer there were mot
