It is vast; on the outside it is made up of huge, aging blocks of an unknown, yellowish rock. The gargantuan blocks are cemented together with the most delicate hands. The windows are enormous, with two in every room giving lively light to the entire house. The two main doors are as immense as ancient city gates, easily ten feet high. When we were kids, we felt like miniature creatures while walking into the olden house.I want to go back to Lebanon for another brisk and risky climb to my home’s roof at four-thirty in the morning. I remember clearly many times that my older, supposedly more mature, brother and I, the easily influenced young one, accomplished the bold climb. First, we took the stairs to our neighbors’. Then, with bewildering, amazing, and daring skill, we walked cautiously, backs against the wall, on a very narrow strip of cement jutting out from the neighbors’ house that led to the roof of ours. The slightest of errors whilst on that ten second journey could have been fatal, or at least, paralyzing. After the “Strip of Death,” we maneuvered ourselves most carefully over a small ledge, and then onto the large roof… We had made it in one piece! Then, we could finally enjoy the bounty of our labor. We lay on the dusty roof, and took everything in. At four-thirty in the morning, one’s senses seem to be much enhanced, and we would be amazed at the magical chirping of the birds. And as joy drowned us, the calm gust of wind that came every now and then sent chills down our spine. Then, all of a sudden, it would become disturbingly quite. A snicker here, a burst of laughter there, a whisper, a joke, all of these seemed to cut through the silence, but otherwise, it was the ultimate state of tranquility. In those moments of intense calm, we could hear our heartbeats, and with our multiplied senses, we felt our hearts beat faster and faster, harder and harder, louder and even more loud. That’s the effect the majestic view the sunrise creates had on us.
In front of my Lebanese castle-home are three gigantic ancient pine trees. They hiss, wraithlike, in the clean, refreshing winds, and their monumental size obstructed any views of the hilltop. The house is located atop a steep hill, and the front view is one of heaven and the trees. A cherry tree, wielding nothing but blossoms, and a fig tree are still etched on my memory, but not as impressively as the pine giants. The figs were quite tasty, though, and red figs are a joy to eat after picking. The rear balcony was large and wielded a majestic view of glorious scenery of a distant, brown valley spotted with greenish farming areas and snow drenched mountain chains colliding violently with the sky in the distant horizon.
Our house in Lebanon was amazing physically, and its brilliance was quite attractive. But its power of attraction came from something much greater… it stood for our family, our name. it was where all of my priceless childhood memories were stored, and so I desire extremely to return there, and to bring back the good old days.
Adonis
wafaa said...
a wonderful description which tickled my imagination and i was drowned in my own sweet memories.... thankyou and i hope u will have the chance to be there again some day..
Sawsan said...
allah ma3ak ya bait samid bil jonoub..