post 45/365

The first glimpse of Baalbek when you walk in is that of the six Corinthian columns of the Great Temple thrusting 22 meters into the skyline. Towering high above the Beqaa plain, their monumental proportions proclaimed the power and wealth of Imperial Rome. Baalbek exerts a fascination unparalleled, for among all the remains scattered here and there throughout what was once the Roman Empire, there is none quite like it.

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post 44/365

Music, silly faces, balloons, water spurting here and there, and performers juggling around in glittery outfits, take action amongst a sea of laughter. “Come watch the show,” she shouts from deep within. For a short while, the children on the Greek Island of Lesbos are transported. Overcome with joy, a simple laugh that they haven’t experienced for weeks, had painted itself on their little innocent faces. It’s a very beautiful thing to see, to see children become children again and bringing a moment of relief to anxious parents. These are not the only faces that Sabine Choucair has seen, and I am guessing not the last ones too.

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post 43/365

Origanum Libanoticum or Hopflower oregano is native to the mountains of Lebanon. This species of oregano is ornamental. It has attractive flowers and foliage and is not used for culinary purposes. It’s exceptionally sun loving. They have tiny pink or purple florets peeking out of prominent papery bracts that cascade over rocks in the wild. Their Flowers bloom summer to fall from August to October. The flowers elongate as the summer progresses, eventually drying to a papery brown by summer’s end. Loved by bees, they are found in the very North and South of Lebanon (Quammouha, Qoubaiyat, Bcharrem…).

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post 39/365

Marjeyoun’s name (meaning meadow of springs) comes from the 54 springs in and around town. It stands majestically at a hill facing Jabal El Sheikh to the East, the old Crusader Castle (Sh’ief Arnoun) above the Litani River and overlooking Jabal Amel to the West, The Rihan, Niha and the Lebanon Mountain Range to the North and the fertile plains of Sahil Marjeyoun between the Galilee finger and plains immediately underneath the Golan Heights.

Driving up and down the mountains, you can see it hanging above in the mist, pure and gentle still waiting to be kissed. A village all forgotten, somehow time had missed it yet its people revive it with tender care and loving hearts. This village protected by the trees that embrace it among the scattered little old houses with red roofs like little rubies on the land. As we drove to it, I pulled on to the shoulder and tried to see as best I could this simple town that had not aged. It was perfect, untouched, special, a village bathed in grace. Maybe it was just a trick of light and sun manufactured through the haze. The village may be magic. It may be something in between. In truth all I can tell you is what I saw through my heart and my eyes.

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