A Walk to Jaffa

Burying Dad: kids playing in the sand on today's walk to Jaffa. (I didn't know it, but I was becoming quite sunburned at the time.)

The entire walk is along the coast of the Mediterranean, so I walked six miles today barefoot along fine sand and crushed seashells, the cuffs of my jeans slowly soaking up to my knees. I walked past the Dolphinarium and around the clock tower (under construction). I talked to an old Italian man in lederhosen about Greece and gathered pamphlets about walking tours/museums/potential propaganda.

When I exited the tourist center, the air was heaving mournfully with song, Arabic words floating down from invisible speakers. The alleyways were empty. The sun blazed overhead. I thought "I don't know what this is, but it's pretty much exactly how the Middle East is portrayed in movies." Where was the song coming from? Was it a prayer? I turned a corner and dozens of pidgeons took flight into the sky, the beating of their wings momentarily obscuring the melody; by the time they were gone, the song had ended.