This Isn’t Low Tide. This Is the Kinneret.

Last month, just before the new year began, I drove north to the kibbutz where I was born, on the shores of the Kinneret (=Sea of Galilee).

For Israelis, the Kinneret isn’t just a lake, it’s our only natural freshwater lake. It’s the place you’re taught to love before you understand why. There’s a very well known song by Rachel (lyrics) and Naomi Shemer (music) called Kinnert.

Kinneret Song by Hava Alberstein. Rachel (lyrics) Naomi Shemer (music) 

Beyond leisure and fishing, the Kinneret once played a critical role in Israel’s water supply. Before large-scale desalination, it fed the National Water Carrier of Israel. In the picture, the Kinneret looks like a heart — pumping life to the rest of the country.

Until last week we hardly had any rains, making it a drought year. I took the photo below from the western shore. The mountains on the other side are the Golan heights.

This isn’t “low tide.” This is a lake in retreat. The ramps lead nowhere. I stood there longer than I planned to. We talk a lot about resilience here: personal, national, historical. But resilience still depends on resources. And water doesn’t care how many songs we’ve written about it.

This isn't low tide

Driving back south, I kept thinking how easy it is to normalize slow loss. How quickly “this is worrying” turns into “this is how it is now.” Until one day you look at a place you love and realize it’s already crossed some invisible line.

I don’t have a neat ending for this email. Just this: these places matter. They need attention before nostalgia is all that’s left.

Thank you for reading. And for staying with me, even when the view is a hard one.

Yours,

Mia

Books by Mia Sivan (women of Tel Aviv Series):

Crunching Her numbers, Analysing Her assets, Pulling Her Resources