July 1-3, 2024 – A FIELD DAY IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH
July 3, 2024
Each year, the summer brings a bevy of new vegetables, including the rich array of tempting varieties of Chubeza’s squash
The Weekly Newsletter of Chubeza Farm
December 4, 2024
DELECTABLE WINTER TREASURES
DELIVERY SCHEDULE THIS WEEK:
Monday, 14.10 Regular delivery
Wednesday Delivery will arrive on Tuesday 15.10
THERE WILL BE NO DELIVERIES OVER THE WEEK OF CHOL HAMOED
No deliveries on Monday, 21.10 and Wednesday 23.10
We cordially invite one and all to Chubeza’s Open Day in the Field on Monday, 21.10 from 13:00-17:00. Reminders to follow!
THE OLIVE TREE
Every person should plant an olive tree in his soul
To embrace its trunk between his arms
To hold a branch between his teeth
And venture out of himself to see if the waters have receded
Every person needs an olive tree
Or a branch
Or a drop of virgin oil
To make peace within himself and across the world
- Sigalit Day
From the Hebrew: Aliza Raz
Following the painful news about the severe damage to the Golani military base, this week we are dedicating this week's newsletter to the tree that is the symbol of the Golani brigade - the olive tree.
Place: Athens. Time: Long, long ago…
The people of Athens gather on the city's highest hill to witness a competition to determine who will become the patron god of Attica, which includes the city of Athens. Two impressive gods have presented their candidacy: Poseidon, god of the seas, oceans, horses (and earthquakes), and his niece, Athena, goddess of wisdom, arts, and justice. To clinch the title, each god will offer the Athenians a gift. The Athenians will then decide which gift they prefer – and with it, who will be their patron god.
Poseidon went first, striking the ground with his trident. The earth split open and an underground spring of water burst forth. But the water was salty, and the Athenians found no use for it (in another version, his gift was a horse springing from the earth). Athena followed to offer her gift: an olive tree growing from the soil. The Athenians unanimously opted for the tree that would accompany them to this day, providing food, light, warmth, and timber.
At first glance, the Athenians’ choice seems like a practical decision. But if we listen closely to the story, it feels like they chose against the trident, driven violently into the ground, to instead choose growth, nourishment, and continuity. The olive tree would triumphantly accompany the Athenians and all Mediterranean peoples, symbolizing victory and success, as well as peace, tranquility, and harmony. After The Flood, the dove returned to Noah with an olive leaf in its beak, a sign that the waters had calmed, the chaos had ceased, and life, submerged so long under turbulent waters, was peeking through at last. Athena triumphed over Poseidon once more.
The olive harvest season begins at this season. It’s the time when the fruits of the olive tree —perhaps the most humble, self-sufficient tree of all—are brought to the press. The olive tree, needing almost nothing, endures for many long years through droughts, rain, heat, and cold. It goes through it all, yet the resilient and quiet olive will continue to survive, grow, and produce oil-rich olives, giving us light, nourishment, soft skin, and remedies for ailments and wounds.
The olive harvest is the final act in the great drama of the cycle of the seasons. By now, we’ve reaped, harvested grapes, and gathered the bounty into barns and wine cellars. We've celebrated our successes, and worried over the failures. And now, as if with a quiet sigh, the olive harvest debuts. This wasn’t a crop we labored over intensely. Mainly, it’s been about hoping: for a good stretch of cold and rain, and for that first nice hard, cleansing rain to wash the olives clean.
Now, humbly, silently, we pick these hard fruits, which burst with juice if you press them hard between your fingers, But not the sweet, lick-able juice of other fruits. This juice is bitter and strange, but it will nourish our bodies in the long run, far more than the sugar of sweet fruits. It will light up our long winter nights, waiting in the wings.
It’s truly amazing to see golden oil burst from such hard, bitter, unappealing fruits. But in all honesty, it doesn’t start out golden. A rather disgusting olive sediment produces a foul, dirty liquid. Only after it rests in the dark for some time does the oil separate from the dirty water and float above it, pure and light. This process feels miraculous to me, filled with symbolism. It says a lot about what can seem futile or vain, and what you can achieve when you actually try, with effort and persistence, while also allowing time and space to run their own course. There’s so much health, goodness and light to be found at the end of the process...
The olive tree itself is a tree of light. Its leaves, which do not fall in winter but cover the tree year-round, have a different shade on each side. Above, the leaf is dark (olive) green, while the underside is silvery white, covered in a fine fuzz that reflects the sun’s rays, protecting the leaf from drying out. The leaves blowing in the wind, alternating between silver and green, shimmer and glow. Much has been written about the healing properties of olive oil (for stomach aches, coughs, and earaches, to name just a few), but olive leaves are also excellent for our health. Drinking olive leaf tea has many benefits: antioxidants and flavonoids in the leaves help lower cholesterol, reduce blood sugar levels, lower high blood pressure, and improve blood circulation in the arteries.
Olive leaves also boast antifungal, antibacterial, and anti-inflammatory properties, making them effective for relieving the flu and protecting against it. (For those who don’t have access to an olive tree, Teva Shalvati’s Galilee tea from contains lemongrass and olive leaves.)
May we all learn something from the olive tree—the tree that provided oil for the holy Temple’s menorah, the tree that appeared after the Flood, the tree that Athena grew in Attica, and the tree cultivated by farmers in Syria, Greece, Italy, Spain, California, Lebanon, Palestine, and Israel. The extended family includes over 2,000 varieties of olives, all descendants of wild olives that grew here long before humanity began its journey, its search for identity, and its conflicts. All olive species experience good, rainy, cold years and suffer from recent years of drought and heat. Yet, despite their similarities, they remain different and diverse—some are ancient heritage varieties grown in olive groves passed down through generations, while others are hybrids developed for intensive industrial cultivation. They are all olives, but each has its own identity, deeply rooted in its specific plot of land. May we, too, find peaceful, stable, and persistent roots – not apologetic, nor aggressive or defensive – bringing blessings, growth, and fertility.
Let us all light a small olive oil lamp for ourselves,
for those who love us,
for the hostages, whose return we pray for each day,
and also to illuminate those who seem hateful, threatening, or foreign to us. Hopefully, we will see some light shining back at us from the other side, also seeking our light.
Wishing you all a bright, warm, and healing Sukkot,
Alon, Bat-Ami, Dror, Einat and the entire Chubeza team