Colonists passed an olive tree grove close to the town of Turmus Aya in the Occupied West Bank. They left their destruction stamp, sign of destructive expertise.
Did they come to the Palestinian grove before or after their morning prayers? Did they manage to drink a cup of coffee before hurrying off to their mission?
For this is the work of the colonist: to harass the Palestinian, uproot his trees, cut them down, destroy, burn, hurt his body, his livelihood and the Palestinian soul.
Photo: Jihad Al-Qaq
The heart of people who uproot an olive tree is filled with evil. People who cut down an ancient olive tree do not regard time. Neither the time facing them nor that behind them.
An olive tree is time itself. Generous time, consequent, holding on to the rocky ground and vowing his eternal loyalty to it. An olive tree is the continuity of life, of generations. It is family, crops, healthy, normality. An olive tree is the changing of the seasons and the joy of the olive harvest and the pouring of oil. An olive tree is a symbol and an essence. It symbolizes man’s peace with nature, with his god. The symbol of the benevolent unity of the existent and the passing, changing.
The hearts of the colonists who came by the town of Turmus Aya this morning contains no human emotion except for blind hatred. They are lost to themselves and to their future, for in the heart of those who threw dead bodies of olive trees along the road there is no god.