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The secret of the disappearing lake: a journey to the spectacular area, which is closed to visitors Israel today

2024-02-03T06:20:03.298Z

Highlights: The Agmon Hula reserve in northern Israel has been closed to visitors since October. This is the fifth year that the reserve has not completed a year of activity. The staff that remains maintains the reserve and cares for the animals. "It's not good to fight during migration seasons," says Inbar Shlomit-Robin, the area manager. "The energy is heavy, hard and sad. As it affects us - so it affects the whole environment," says Adam. "Every time I have fun again, and every time the place looks different"


Agmon Hula reserve is spectacular now, but it has been closed to visitors since October and this is the fifth year that it has not completed a year of activity • The air traffic control unit sometimes has difficulty distinguishing between an innocent chicken and a hostile drone, but the cranes are no longer excited by the booms • The staff that remains maintains the reserve and cares for the animals Injured • "It's like it's quiet here," says Inbar, the manager, "but the army is moving around here, the tanks are driving and the artillery fire doesn't stop. The energy is heavy, hard and sad. As it affects us - so it affects the whole environment"


On Saturday, October 7, at 3:30 p.m., the last visitors were evacuated from the Hula reservoir in the north.

Since then its gates have been locked, and only a few get to see nature in its most beautiful hours, the thousands of cranes that migrated here from northwestern Russia to pass the winter months, not to mention the mallards and mallards and the gray ducks and the sharp-tailed and yellow-browed ducks.

Spectacular nature, which is accompanied by the noisy soundtrack produced by the IDF artillery batteries, which sit right next door.

Poultry in Agmon Hula // Photo: Inbar Shlomit-Robin - KKL-Junk

"It's not good to fight during migration seasons. Really, I'm not kidding," says Einbar Shlomit-Robin, the area manager of Agmon Hula.

"It's a shared space of aircraft and birds, especially with the new tool we got to know - the UAV, which is generally the size of a crane or a pelican.

So when you sit on a radar and see something flying in from Lebanon - will you take a risk? Yes, cranes were also hurt in this war. In the first week there was an alarm and they said that dozens of aircraft had entered our territory? Cranes. Everyone wanted to find shelter, while I went outside and looked at the sky."

the cranes

Some of them stop for "Connection" and continue to other countries, photo: Efrat Eshel

Agmon Hula, located about 5 km as the crow flies from the border with Lebanon, was chosen in 2009 by the magazine "BBC Wildlife" and the British Museum, which conducted a poll of researchers and senior photographers, as the ninth place among the natural sites recommended for watching animals. Two years After that "National Geographic" promoted it to the eighth place.

When we visit, when the rain stops and the sun begins to shine, instead of a UAV, a wonderful rainbow appears above the sky of Lebanon, and it's easy to understand where the enthusiasm comes from. From Adam. "Every time I have fun again, and every time the place looks different.

The colors are different and the weather is different and the lighting is different, but I'm still sad.

Last Hanukkah we were supposed to celebrate Agmon's 20th birthday. There were plans for parties, movies and big budgets.

So beyond the fact that the site is closed and you can't be happy these days - who even wants to?"

Half a million visitors a year

Agmon Hula, which covers 5,300 dunams, is a unique story in our landscape.

This is an artificial lake, which was opened in the early 2000s in an area that used to be swamps that were drained and dried in the 1950s.

The lands that were drained mostly belong to the mountain settlements, such as the moshavs next to the fence Margaliot, Avivim and Dishon.

At the time, less people knew how to grow agricultural crops in the mountainous area, so they were divided up the areas in the valley.

And since it is impossible to divide each farm into individual dunams - the moshavim established a cooperative agricultural association called "Nachlat Moshavi haGilil" to which the complex belongs.

Four decades after the swamps dried up, KKL-Junk began to flood part of the area in a controlled manner to create a reed, and the same agricultural association was told that it would be possible to make a lot of money from the crowds of tourists who would come. The grandiose plans talked about a magnificent shopping mall, 600 hotel rooms, canal cruises. - It turned out that the enthusiasm was a bit excessive.

the reed

There was once a large egg that was dried, photo: Efrat Eshel

In a good year, about half a million visitors come here, but the revenues are divided equally between KKL-Junk, which is obligated to invest its revenues in the site, and the 15 moshavs who are supposed to maintain the Hagmon from a tourist point of view. So, in the meantime, no one has gotten rich from the stunningly beautiful complex.

"I'm sitting now to summarize the year 2023. For us, the most significant quarter in terms of travelers is October-December, the Hagmon bonanza," says Efi Naim, manager of the Emek Hula region of KKL-Junk, who is, among other things, responsible for the site. "If I wanted to be really businesslike , I would open the place in those three months, close and come back only next year.

The other quarters are even loss making.

We had an amazing Sukkot holiday, and then October 7 came."

The cranes arrive every year at the end of September, and you can see them wintering in Agmon until March and even April.

So they continue to migrate and return to Russia, or continue to Lake Tana in Ethiopia.

There is an American couple that lands in Israel every year in December for three days.

He does a sunrise tour every morning, and in the afternoon makes sure to do a sunset tour - then returns to the land of unlimited possibilities, happy with the beauty of creation.

"You know how many messages I've been getting in the last few months: 'Maybe you'll open,' 'Just one tour,' 'We want to come already,'" Robin smiles.

"It's our decision to close, and it stems from two motives. First of all, we won't be responsible for bringing people here. As soon as I tell people that the Agamon is open, I'm responsible for their safety - and I can't. And there's also the economic side. In order for me to open and bring in employees, I need them to come here Thousands of visitors. Normally we have 80 employees, and now there are 13. Next month more will go to Halat.

Where will I pay salaries?

Fewer people will have to do more."

Robin.

"There are arguments about how many species of birds have been observed here - 350 or 400,"

We miss the corona lockdown

This is the fifth year in which Hagmon will not close a full year of activity.

In 2020, it was mostly closed due to the Corona epidemic, which also spread into part of 2021. In December of that year and in early 2022, the place received a serious blow due to the bird flu, which affected the crane population.

About 7,000 carcasses were removed from the lake during that period.

In 2023, a war of iron swords arrived, and even in the new year, we still don't see its end.

The possibility that it will escalate in the north is mentioned quite a few times.

"During the Corona period, the experience in the north was different from the one in the center," Robin says.

"We have nature and spaces here. On the contrary - during Corona we felt that the north was ours again. No dirt, loud music and mess. Personally, the Corona did not excite me. There was no fear and there was a horizon, we knew it would be closed for a month or two and it would open again. We could plan. The situation Today it is much more existential. No one knows what will happen in the north. No one will come back to live here if Hezbollah continues to be on the fence, and Hezbollah is not Hamas - it is much worse."

Poultry in the reserve.

Wounded birds are treated at the clinic, photo: Efrat Eshel

The war has already reached the lake.

Not only the noises of the artillery - there were also falls in the field.

A window was shattered not far from the principal's office, and fragments collected from the area are lying next to her desk.

The question is whether the war also affects the animals in the environment.

Due to the lack of visitors, more families of wild boars now roam the area freely.

You can also see swamp cats, which are not in a hurry to go anywhere.

Regarding the cranes - the experts claim that they see less this year.

The numbers speak of 15-18 thousand who chose to winter shop in Agmon, and in good years it is a double amount.

Robin asked a German researcher if he noticed a dramatic increase in the presence of the cranes in Turkey, perhaps on the way here they chose to stop there.

"There are global phenomena in our region, and I guess they created conditions for the wing owners to think 'why continue to wander another 4,000 km if we can stop in Turkey, or in the south of France, or in Spain,'" says Efi Naim. "You have to look at things in a broad context, Like the development of man, the drying up of the lakes.

There is a set of things that ultimately make those birds decide if it's worth it.

It's all a matter of cost versus benefit."

the fields.

"Because of the silence, more families of wild boars roam the field", photo: Efrat Eshel

Robin also admits that there is a change in the landscape: "There are fewer cranes. The avian flu hit them hard, and this population takes time to recover. No one has studied the impact of the war, and any answer you can give can be unfounded. The acoustics here are indeed good and you can hear the booms perfectly, but At the same time, cranes have the ability to adapt. It is more challenging for them to fly from here in this weather, and there is food here, the goal for which they came. So at the first boom they may have flown in panic, the second time they jumped, the third time they raised their heads and the fourth time they no longer responded ".

Robin, who lives in the Mosheva Yesod HaMaale, has been in Agamon for 17 years.

For years she even worked as a bartender in a fashionable bar in nearby Rosh Pina, but during the Second Lebanon War, when rockets ignited fires all around, she volunteered for KKL-Junk.

From there she was drawn to Agamon - and has been here ever since.

Today she knows how to distinguish between the species of birds that fly around her, and knows almost all of them.

"There are arguments, as with everything, how many species of birds have been seen here," she laughs.

"There are those who say that we have already passed 400, and the more conservative ones talk about 350. The most common species you will find here are small songbirds, and this winter mainly the black-throated woodpecker. Among the larger ones we will find the ducks of all kinds, and the rarest is probably the white-tailed eagle, The largest raptor in the country, which is in danger of extinction. During the swamps, they nested here and stopped. There were unsuccessful attempts to return them to the area, but occasionally there are a few individuals that fly here, mostly young ones. You can see about one a year."

The cranes stand in the direction of the wind

The jeep stops near the feeding area of ​​the cranes.

Thousands running in the field, a breathtaking and especially noisy sight.

The crane, it turns out, has a very family wing.

He flies in a flock made up of nuclear families.

When the chick reaches the age of one, it moves to fly with its peers, in what is called in Agmon "the bachelorhood", until it reaches sexual maturity at the age of 4 and starts its own family, with which it will carry out the migration.

"As soon as there is wind with rain, all the cranes stand in the same direction, facing the wind", Robin directs us to the phenomenon just when the rain chooses to shift gears.

"Our automaton is to turn around and protect the face, whereas with them the wind ruffles the feathers, and it's not good for their down feathers to get wet, because that's what keeps their body warm. They stand up, and the wind slides the feathers that block the rain, just like a coat."

Not all the cranes that come to Israel choose to stay in Agmon.

Some continue to other regions, some just stop at "Connection" on their way to other countries.

A crane is a bird that cannot be counted precisely, because unlike the pelican, for example, it also migrates at night, and at heights that can reach 6-7 km. It is estimated that about 100 thousand cranes pass here every year.

Robin is a member of groups of birders, and during the war she often found herself calling the control system of the air force, to report that what is now coming from the north is an innocent bird, so that it will not be accidentally intercepted.

It is impossible to separate from reality even in pure nature.

A fighter plane passes over us on its way north.

In the water, Robin points to Magellan - not the patrolman, but the long-beaked chicken - and a warrior, who in Agammon is not a military man but a chicken from the Hartomani family in the Hafmaim series.

"It's like it's quiet here and peaceful, but not really," she says.

"The army moves around here, the tanks drive in the area and the artillery fire does not stop. The noise that is here now is not the noise of a round, and all the energy is heavy, hard and sad. As it affects us - so it affects the whole environment."

Within the boundaries of Hagmon there is a front clinic and an acclimatization center for injured wild animals coming from the Galilee and the Golan, an initiative of KKL-Junk and the Tel Hai Academic College. All the clinic staff are residents of settlements adjacent to the fence that were evacuated when the war began, including the veterinarian and director Dr. Rona Nadler-Valensi.

There was a consultation on what to do, because in those days several distinguished patients were admitted to the clinic - among them a field rabbit puppy, which had just undergone the final processes of weaning;

a gray heron recovering from a crisis;

A slow heel that was just before release;

And a peregrine falcon that came from illegal possession, where his wings were clipped and he was in an advanced stage of recovery and waiting for the next migration season.

Soldiers at the visitor center.

The place is used as a collection center, photo: Efrat Eshel

set the animals free

Dr. Nadler-Valensi spoke with the head caretaker, Mai Abrahami, and it was decided to release the animals free in the agemon so that they would not starve to death. "We could have taken the baby rabbit home - but what did we do with it?

Will she live in captivity her whole life, or will we give her the best chance to integrate into nature?" explains Robin. "In the beginning, when we released her, the rabbit didn't run away that much, and that worried us a bit, because she should be afraid of us.

At some point I actually ran to her and shouted to scare her, and then she ran away and disappeared."

Abrahami is originally from Ramat Ganit, and has been living in the Galilee for the past seven years.

Until the war broke out, she lived in Moshav Beit Hillel with her partner, Adir.

When the fighting began, the two moved to Adir's parents' home in Moshav Hosan, near Ma'alt-Tarshiha, but Mai quickly realized that she would not be able to leave the animals that needed her help and set up a temporary clinic in her temporary home.

"After two days I returned to Agmon to pick up the cat I left behind, and I just loaded everything I could," May says.

"I always have a supply of basic things, such as fluids, a catheter, painkillers, but there are other things that are needed, such as a heating pad, a proper cage, antibiotics, dressings.

On the day I arrived here, a reservist reported that Dia had been run over near Kfar Blum, so when my partner was packing our equipment at Beit Hillel I told him, 'I'm flying to the clinic with Dia and giving her oxygen in an attempt to save her.'"

At the clinic in Moshav Hosan for emergency treatment came Natz, Zaron Sof, Diya Shero, Hivyai and Pashosh Shamai Aspa from Kibbutz Gesher Ziv in the Western Galilee.

Some of them were saved after initial treatment, and some were rushed to the Ramat Gan Safari Wildlife Hospital.

"It's hard for me to see them here alone in recent months," Mai admits.

"Before the war, we would receive injured animals according to reports from the field from citizens who were walking and found them, or from residents who saw an injured animal lying near their house. Now there is no one around, everyone is evacuated, so we do not know what is happening in the closed yards and reserves. Dead animals, and no one We will not approach them. Most of the calls we have received in recent months have come from reservists."

Before training those reservists noticed that muffled wails were coming from one of the barrels that mark the boundaries of a sector.

They looked inside, and were amazed to see that a fox was stuck inside a rusty, bullet-holed barrel that could not get out.

They called the inspector of the Nature and Parks Authority, Oriya Vazna, who helped them rescue the fox and hurried to drive it to the clinic.

"It was a beautiful male with stunning winter fur," May recalls.

"He was not injured, but he suffered from too high a body temperature and was completely dehydrated. It was only the third time that I was able to open a vein and put him in an infusion, and he was hospitalized. The next day I came to remove the fluids and promote his release, and as I tried to remove the catheter I heard an aircraft close by, followed by Boom, as if it was right at the entrance to the clinic. There was no warning, because there are no alarms here - Ammon Hula is not an inhabited place. Everything shook, things fell off the shelves.

"I went outside and saw five small clouds of interceptions above me and I didn't understand what had happened. It wasn't until an hour later that a friend called and said, 'There were a lot of rockets heading for the reed.'

The fox received antibiotic treatment and a rabies vaccine and was released where it was found.

The hedgehog that is being treated at the clinic while we are talking is suffering from early symptoms of scabies (a skin disease), but he too is supposed to return to the Golan Heights in the near future, after receiving treatment.

Abrahami with the sick hedgehog.

Suffers from a skin disease, photo: Efrat Eshel

"The background noises of the war frighten the animals, but as long as they do not reflect a real danger to their existence or their food or kill their own kind - they get used to it," May is convinced.

"They are so smart and educated, but there are more dangerous places, such as the settlements next to the fence, where the war is certainly affecting them. There are animals that are now in a kind of hibernation, and there is a chance that they will not wake up. Under every house in Kibbutz Manara there is a habitat that must have been destroyed So here, in Agmon, the animals are happy and happy, because tap-tap-tap doesn't happen here much, but there I'm sure damage has been done, and I hope it's reversible."

Use the time for development

As the war dragged on, Adir, Mai's partner, moved in with her parents in Ramat Gan to continue working in the culinary business, while she rented a house in Kibbutz Holta, close to Agmon, and returned to the clinic.

"There is a reason we established the place four years ago," she says.

"He must continue to act because he is constantly growing. He is like a baby growing up and learning to walk, so abandon him like this?"

Recently, two young service members joined the clinic to help.

May says she cares more about them than herself.

"Around us, it's not child's play. Two weeks ago, it was boiling hot, so I told them, 'Leave everything, nothing is important, get out of the reed.' But he has no choice. I love my job the most in the world."

Today there are no visitors in Ammon, but there are quite a few soldiers who use the place to gather and prepare.

For some of them Robin gives short tours if they ask.

At the same time, KKL-Junk continues the development work and takes advantage of the fact that the site is currently empty.

"We have a maintenance system that knows how to handle the intricacies of canals with water and vegetation," says Efi Naim.

"There is a harvest boat here, the only one of its kind in Israel, along with excavators, tractors and mowers, to maintain 100 km of canals - a job that is carried out five times a year.

Each canal has two sides, and in total it is 1,000 km. It's like traveling from Dan to Eilat and back on a tractor. Now, during the war, I told the workers, 'Let's fill in the gaps.' A peace agreement from the sky, within two days we will be able to receive visitors without harming the site. I am optimistic by nature. It may be that travelers will not return to sleep in the area in the near future, but they will certainly come when it becomes possible. The situation is tarnished, and people want to see green and blue."

Pleasant.

"The water and the heat of the earth are good for the soul", photo: Efrat Eshel

For 66-year-old Effie, the last few years have not been easy.

In November 2022, he lost his son, Dor Zal, who was killed in a car accident. In recent months, he held his breath as his son Shahar fought as a reservist in the southern sector. "There were quite a few mornings when I knew I had to start my day here," he says.

"Early in the morning you enter the area with an open window, drive slowly, hear the birds, breathe fresh air. It was the therapy. The water and the heat of the earth are good for the soul and give the strength to continue."

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Source: israelhayom

All news articles on 2024-02-03

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