Sea of Galilee -- Nightime

This is the Sea of Galilee, looking due west from my porch across the center of the lake. It's the view as I sit down from a long day of traveling around today, a grand tour thoughout the Golan Heights of Northern Israel.

A few more pictures I took as the sun went down this evening.

There is a strange weather pattern that impacts the lake. I have read about in several books while preparing for my trip, but can't remember enough to explain it to you very well. Paul Douglas I am not. It has to do with Mediterranean air flow going over the mountains, hitting warmer inland air to the east over the lake and then being trapped by the mountains. Kind of like that. Well, sort of.

Once again, can you remember the biblical story of the disciples setting out on the lake at night and the wind whipping up and the fear it created?

I mention that because it is now 11:00pm here in Galilee (3:00pm in Minnesota). It is dark and there is not a single cloud in the sky. The moon is bright and rising high in the Eastern sky. Cool, but not overly chilly. And yet the wind is howling as if a hurricane has come ashore here. The building is constantly rattling and you can here the gale-like wind outside non-stop, blowing hard through the palm trees. It sounds like the first moments of a severe summer storm back home in Minnesota when the leading edge of a thunderstrom passes through, but with absolutely no rain with it. the skies are clear and starry. Yet it has been blowing constantly, furiously, for the last two hours. I assume it is the weather dynamic I have read about. It is actually kind of unnerving.

Before I go to bed now, I am going to walk down to the shores of the lake and feel the wind. It is incredible, and I wish you could hear it at this very moment. A flagpole is clanging outside like a caffeinated Salvation Army bell-ringer, and it is buffeting the building very loudly. At the shore, I want to listen to it as it flies across the water, furiously whipping up the lake. I am excited because it would seem to be the same type of night when others once became very frightened in their fishing boat. (I'm worried enough about going down to the shore, let alone thinking what it would have been like in a boat out in the middle of this!)

I just hope I don't see anyone walking across the water in the dark.

THAT would be frightening.