Leah's Blog Parshat Balak 2026

Leah’s Blog Parshat Balak 2026

Leah’s Blog – Parshat Balak – June 2026 –

Moshe, Anita, Enrico and I took the back road east from Eilon Moreh past Skahli and then the Cocoa Cocoa Farm making a right turn through the rugged landscape through desert hill country where sunbaked limestone cakes under your feet to a new road connecting to the back farms of Itamar. Itamar Cohen’s cows decorate the sand-colored lunar looking outlook, some reddish some black – looking up at us, curious who would disrupt the peace of this isolated place. As we drove through this parched looking area more surprises had us in pleasure as signs to streams had arrows pointing to where it looked steep to venture down to. EIN Arnon, EIN Fukah to name a few- yes water flows here – unbelievable. As we came closer to Itamar, and leaving Menashe into Efrayim (due south) a green apparition appeared on the hillside- a curtain of green and I screamed,” Jeremiah!” a few good times. There is blessing here. Combed into the rocky terrain grapevines green and heavy greeted us now at every view. We passed the invisible veil that separated where the rain falls torrentially and where it hardly does. Shifting gears now we turned west and climbed up into the Itamar three seas point. Here is a direct view into the dualism so spotlighted in our Parsha- Balak. The cunning, dirty work of Balak – the intended curses – and the faithfulness loyalty and blessings that unintentionally came out -in the embodiment of the mountains of the Blessings and the curses. Twin mountains – gerizzim and eval – two entirely different sides of Shechem echad – of one Shechem. This theme is repeated throughout the Torah- the lesson – people and nations come to bless us as have Anita and Enrico. They are blessed. The curses of Bilaam turned into blessings beyond his control. Demonstrations and rallies rock the world, earthquakes rattle now, yet here – here in this place “how goodly are your tents Yaakov!” Here we plant a vineyard, here peace is so thick you can cut it with a knife – it pours over as the battery charge coming out of the amphitheater of the mountains ignites the Land into vibrant life. A shepherdess winds down a path through the ravine carrying a backpack that played music, her stick in hand, her kerchief partially covering her tan face; the sheep followed in a fluffy woolen rippling of movement following