post 291/365
The river flows and brings life back to this soil. It tells tales of life in a never-ending flowing pattern of liveliness. Calm and fast-flowing but unsuspecting of the path ahead it flows and ends up in the Mediterranean Sea, where it tumbles with its glorious white droplets of pure life soon to be immersed in uniformity with it as they mend as one.
post 290/365
Upheaval of the present takes you back to nostalgia. Fragments of memories play in your mind. Incoherent thoughts edited. There is a certain place in the past where a part of you lived and no matter how far you have come, nostalgia takes over. It’s a romance with the past. These vintage images in black and white or in faded colors revived from imagination in full color. Vivid colors surface haunted memories of a buried past.
post 289/365
“Had I not known it to be the kamoa hermel, I would from afar have taken it for a tower. And in fact it has much resemblance in form to that. Two quadrilateral masses rise, the one above the other, and are covered with a kind of pyramid, while the whole stands on a low pedestal of three steps, and rises to a height of about eighty feet. Hamath itself lies at a considerable distance further to the north, but the entire northern plain seen from the monument of Hermel was called after Hamath, the capital, “the land of Hamath.” At the kamoa hermel, in fact, a new district is entered and that point is the natural gate of the high plateau of Coele- Syria with its huge mountain walls. It is there that the Lebanon and anti-Lebanon ranges may be said to begin.” (from the book; Narrative of a journey through Syria and Palestine in 1851 and 1852, Volume 2)
post 288/365
Coastal mist settles on the mountains facing them as shadows begin to flood the valleys below. The air is mild yet in winter, its history and many tales fight against the roaring wind and against the past. Ehden, located 1,500 metres above sea level is a famous summer resort and touristic center, often called “The Bride of Summer Resorts in the North of Lebanon.”
post 287/365
“Sheikh Abu Ali Sayyagha was one of the most respected and honest men in his days. He was capable whenever he met someone for the first time to guess immediately what type of person he was, whether smart or stupid, generous or stingy, honest or not, by just staring at his face, a science called those days physiognomy.
Post 286/365
Lebanese salesman: “min el ekheir, 200$ 3al el kil” (from the end, my final price is 200$ for all of them).
Lebanese buyer: “tayeb yalla akhadton” (ok Yalla, I’ll take them).
post 285/365
Hasroun lies in the mist, serene and calm it hangs on the cliff. A village all forgotten, somehow time had missed. Slightly hazy in the mist, its red rooftops peeking out in between the trees that ignore them, like poppy flowers tall and straight they peep out of this colossal surrounding of mountains and cliffs that seem to embrace them.
post 284/365
Beirut, always vibrant and bubbling with an air filled with a heady mix of urban pollution and orange blossom, is a city where streets are a living collision of history and glamour.
365 Days of Lebanon 