Ad Libanum

…As you traverse the doors of conflict you sink into the ugliness of war. The abominable rhetoric of guns…the infernal darkness of labyrinths of death and desolation. Stop! Wander the other way. Let not the future be a long past… Who among them (you) dare to say, “My life was a drop of blood in the veins of Lebanon, a tear in her eyes or a smile upon her lips”?

A call to stop chaotic urbanization in Lebanon. The rot of ubiquitous corruption reflects in the jungle of cement that invades the once green hills of the Metn. “Do you believe life will accept a patched garment for a dress? ” once asked Khalil Gebran…

The Beirut marina yacht club with the snowed Sannine mountain in background. The sun is setting, the full moon comes out early in a ravishing beauty, the sea is mesmerized, the timid mountain is rosy…another night of folly in Beirut is about to begin.

The Beirut Hippodrome was first built in 1885 in Bir Hassan and was moved to its present location near Horsh Beirut in 1915 and the horses are running since. Races at the hippodrome are still held every Sunday afternoon and are open to the public for betting. As you walk up the rusty stairs towards the betting booth, you travel back in time to the magnetic Beirut of the 60s. The same worn equipments have not retired yet, and the same betters, now old and haggard, are still trying their luck.

A naked tree next to the Mar Chaaya convent in the Metn. Standing by the edge of the prairie it watches over the playful daisies.

A peaceful fisherman on the placid waters of a troubled South Lebanon. In his loneliness the fisherman stands between threatened existence on land and fragile subsistence at sea. But he is in the lineage of those who through the ages have remained, and so he shall.

The silhouettes of pine trees in the bewitching colors of a fading firmament. Pinus Halpensis spread across the lower Lebanese mountains up to an altitude of 1000 meters. These “fur trees” as they were referred to in the Old Testament defiantly grow in poor soil, rocky areas and steep slopes, hostile conditions other trees dare not challenge.

A dry January afternoon in Lebanon where sea, sky and land intersect under the cozy light of winter sun. As the advancing storm slowly collides with the ascending hills, an unpolluted opening at the sea appears for dreamers to savor while they can. The heavens respectfully await for the sun to set before the wind howls and torrents overflow.

As time marches on, a christian sanctuary and the remains of a roman temple withstand the forces of nature. Held by the stones, the church bell struggles with the furious winds at full blast until ice imposes silence. Perched on its peak, this shrine -“Mzaar” in Arabic- gave its name to the mountain.

A commercial hub for Egyptian Pharaohs and Phoenicians since the 15th century BC, the Port of Beirut remains a destination for more than 2000 merchant ships a year. As the Port casts them off these tankers empty their oil in giant reservoirs on the fatigued and wrinkled shores north of Beirut.

The Beirut downtown seafront. The once reputable St. Georges Hotel Marina is now known by Zeituna Bay which translates into Olive Bay. Virgin olive trees are long gone from here. Nowadays, glamorous scrapers swagger by the marina minding none but their looks in the sea that mirrors them.

The famous panorama from the top of Mzaar ski station. Orchards plunged into white desolation garnished by graying trees and frozen lakes. A homage paid by the mountain to sportsmen who dare challenging it.

Sailing away from gravel shores on a melancholic autumn day. The 225 Km of coast that were once the port of the Orient are no longer busy with sailboats. Only a few are burgeoning from a yet little known sailing club on the coast of Batroun. Just before winter at the paling of the sky, the sea loses its luster but remains calm. Only the sailboat fades slowly towards the horizon.

A romantic sunset at 2300 meters above sea level in the Cedars. This artificial pool gathers the waters that emanate from the belly of the generous mountain that is itself refilled by the melting of eternal snows. It quenches the thirst of the few shrubs and vegetables that endure the harshness of exceptionally arid summers and low air density.