It doesn’t take much time for visitors and Israeli newbies to notice one thing about the Holy Land: there aren’t many trees. Or at least, there aren’t many real trees, the massively tall specimens that many of us grew up with.
I remember the summer of 2003 when we emigrated from the United States to the hot town of Ramat Beit Shemesh. The lack of trees was quite apparent to me back then, as I pushed a double baby stroller down hilly sidewalks on uncomfortably sunny days. As we walked, we darted from shade patch to shade patch, getting whatever relief we could under the tiny trees that dotted the sidewalk.
In those days, I pined away after the magnificently huge live oaks of New Orleans and oversized magnolia trees with white, fragrant blossoms. Although the plentiful shade in my hometown hadn’t offered much protection from the humid heat, it did make things feel cooler.
Tree appreciation takes time
It took about 20 years of living and traveling in Israel for me to deeply appreciate Israel’s own native trees, and their excellent qualities, suited to the local climate. In this land of rainy and dry seasons, oversized trees need too much water to survive. The low, shrubby forests native to Israel are less susceptible to drought and fire, common dangers of long, hot Israeli summers.
Biblical mentions of Middle Eastern trees are plentiful. Two of the most common trees in Israel are the oak and the terebinth, elon and elah in Hebrew (both of which share the root el, or god). Even though, to Americans, the name oak conjures up an image of a massive tree, Israel’s are small in stature, but stately. With their large canopies and draping tendrils, these beautiful trees make a perfect place to rest in the shade on hot and sunny days. This may be why Abraham sat in Alonei Mamrei… k’hom hayom, in an oak grove in the heat of the day, when he welcomed three angelic visitors (Genesis 18:1).
The terebinth tree (elah), on the other hand, is more of a tangled, oversized bush than a shade tree; they grow abundantly throughout the Land of Israel, most particularly in the Valley of Elah near Jerusalem where David and Goliath fought their famous battle. When you encounter the scraggly terebinth in Israel’s outdoors, you can almost envision the later story of wild Avshalom, who got his long hair tangled up in an elah tree and was left hanging there during battle.
I think my favorite Israeli tree is the carob, a species I once had no appreciation for. In my youth, carob was often passed off as a chocolate alternative, but there was no fooling my childish taste buds, familiar as they were with Hershey’s. Before I moved to Israel, carob was definitely not one of my favorite trees.
Picnic in the shade
Now, as an avid hiker with young boys, I simply love these trees. We seek them out when we hike on hot days; their large, flat canopies create a patch of shade big enough for a relaxed picnic – checkered blanket, iced coffee, and all. Our boys love to climb carob trees while we eat, finding sure footing on sturdy, low branches. And when they reach the outer limbs of the canopy, the boys pluck off carob pods, break them open, and suck out the sweet juice. There’s nothing like discovering free food (which is definitively not chocolate) to enhance a morning outdoors.
Despite their ubiquity in Israel in modern times, carob trees are not mentioned at all in the bible. It is only in Mishnaic era literature that we begin to encounter this fruit-bearing tree. Common wisdom is that the carob tree was imported from other lands during the Second Temple period.
One tree that is of obvious importance throughout biblical literature is the fig. Fig leaves have evoked images of makeshift clothing since the Garden of Eden. Later on, the fig tree was a biblical symbol of plenty and prosperity. These trees grow almost spontaneously in Israel, wherever there is a spring or stream. One can usually locate hidden springs by finding green fig branches growing out of otherwise sparse terrain. With their massive thirst for fresh water, the presence of fig trees indicates ideal living conditions in this climate.
Fig fruits themselves are one of Israel’s seven biblical species. Growing up, I never encountered fresh figs, and their dried counterparts weren’t particularly appealing to me either. It’s funny how time and experience can change a person. After years of hiking through Israel, I look forward to the ripening of figs all summer long. In late summer and early fall, we follow our noses along the trails until we find the next tree, hanging with fragrant purple or green fruit. Even my children love the taste of sweet figs, fresh off the tree.
These days, I no longer think of Israel as a land with no trees. Instead, I finally understand that every climate has its own unique brand of beauty. Trees in this country may not be as massive as those in other parts of the world – but they do have the unique ability to bring the images, feelings, and flavors of biblical stories to life.