Moment of Silence

Mosquitoes buzzed at my eardrums as they picked at my exposed skin. My t shirt was currently rolled up in my sports bra, desperately trying to transform itself into a sponge and soak up the rivers of sweat running down my body. I was hot, not too tired, but annoyed. The ISI group was hiking up Ramon Crater in the Negev, one of the only natural made craters in the world of it's size. The crater was sculpted by years of rivers flowing through the sand and rock. I was in love with the landscape, but could barely focus on appreciating the emptiness of the space because everyone else in the group was chattering and singing away.

In a moment of frustration, I yelled at everyone to "Shut up!" and asked if we could have one minute of silence. The train of teenagers came to a grinding halt as we stood still on the very top of the mountain. 

The thing about nature is that it has a very specific sound-- silence. The silence of a forest is the same silence of a hot desert. The silence was magnified on top of the crater, high above the ground of the Negev, just human flesh and the raw earth. No wind, no clouds. An empty blue sky blended seamlessly with the rows of water marks forever etched into the stones, and the metallic scent of raw mineral stung my nose as the silence permeated the space around me.

The loud sound of silence rung in my ears, building up a momentum until it became almost too much. As powerful as it was, I was relieved when Orion announced that the moment was done and would be continuing the hike. The silence had begun to become overwhelming.

I have never felt more at peace than I did in the center of nothingness during that 5 minutes. I am a small, insignificant human whose life span means nothing in comparison to the history that crater has seen, yet I felt connected. I felt like I was a part of something much larger. In the desert, there's nothing in the way of you and the earth--literally nothing. The desert gives you space, space for your mind to expand and take in the absolute majesty of this planet. The desert offers openness and freedom, something I can't experience in the rolling hills of San Diego suburbs or the bustling streets of Tel Aviv. I completely understand why the stories of the Bible were written in the Negev and in the desert, because to me, this is where G-d lives. 

--- Lily Greenberg Cal