Basking on the top of two mountains, overlooking the coastal plains, breathing the scent of the Mediterranean. Dressed into its beautiful green .Chatting with the old olive trees and wondering:
Is it the silence of the grapevines or the whisper of the many springs that gives away its charm??!
Lamenting Its dead and rejoicing the happiness of the living .This is my home Beit Reema Or the great Rock. Cotemplaiting the different races and civilizations that passed through and are gone Leaving nothing but traces of ruins on the face of Beit Reema.
The Canaanites,the Philistines,the Israelites, The Greek the Romans ,the Islamic empire ,the crusaders ,the Ottomans ,the British and finally the Jews are all gone and Beit Reema is still there ,not worried who is coming next or leaving.The roots of its sycamore is deep into the ground ,painting its soil with its brown fruit.
How can you ask me why I love her?