The following poem and photographs are by Area S-2 excavator and University of Iowa student Sanna Miller, who reflected on the Azekah excavation thus far.
Our heavy bodies pull themselves into somewhat standing positions as the sky sings four a.m. We make our way to the coffee to the bus to the site to the day.
Like flotsam rolling in from the sea we trudge from the bottom to the top.
And the sound of squeaking plastic rings all round as shade nets prepare the site for the coming sun. Equipment shuffles and voices scuffle and as we await the arrival of a light, I close my eyes and gain a sort of satisfaction from this standing sleep. But a satisfaction like this can only last so long before the voice of Omer caws, ‘Okay friends, it’s time to dig. Yalla.’
Before descending into my square I look to the sky and see that it has changed from dark to light in a matter of moments. Never will I look to a sky and see the beauty that I see here in these early morning hours. Long before the birds come out to coo, long before the motor cars screech and snort, long before he and she and they and them open their eyes good morning, these hours are ours.
While dawn turns to day a chronological time lapse takes us down deeper and deeper, and while we search for the past, we find a way to treasure the present, to understand the future.
We are staring into a life we never knew. We are standing in the afterbirth of history and the life it never left. So we seek.
August 3, 2012
Thanks to Sanna for beautiful reflections in both word and pictures on her time at Azekah!