Last April we went to Jordan to make a photograph. The place, called Makawir (or Mukawir, or Mukuwir depending on which road sign you look at along the way from Madaba), is the site of Herod’s palace, set on the flat top of a steep hill overlooking the Dead Sea. When you get close, a notice tells you that you are coming to the shrine of the death of the prophet Yahya, also known as John the Baptist, whose life ended there, we have been told, when Salome asked for his head on a platter as a reward for her particularly beguiling dance performance.
On our first visit to Makawir, back in 2004, it was a January evening and there were no photographs taken, just our amazement at the grandeur of the site with a few tiny columns standing against the desert sky at dusk with a full moon rising and steep wadis that sloped away toward the Dead Sea. We climbed down the stone stairs from the pilgrims’ parking lot to the beginning of the ancient road that wound up the side of the hill and made our way to the palace ruin in the still evening with nothing but the sounds of goat bells and a single dog somewhere in the distance. At the top we picked our way by moonlight around walls and columns and wondered where Salome had danced. Looking out we were moved by our very first view of the distant lights of the West Bank and possibly Israeli territory. It was clearly a place to come back to.
Over the intervening years the idea of making a photograph at Makawir never really went away, and it, along with the need to go to Jerusalem and Syria for another photo series, was a main motivating factor for being back in Jordan a year ago (though no one should ever need a practical reason to go to that fascinating and friendly country). Again we drove from Madaba, the best place to stay in northern Jordan, out towards Makawir, only this time it was late afternoon so that we could be sure to get set up in time for the magic light for photographing, just before sunset. We were fortunate that it was late enough in the day that there were no pilgrims, Muslim or Christian, or their buses or cars in the parking area, and no tour guides; in fact, there was no one else at the site as far as we could tell.
We packed our gear and made our way down to the beginning of the ancient road that led up to the palace. It was warm and quiet. As we started to climb I noticed a bird working its way among rocks along the side of the hill. I was struck by the black and white patterning on its back, the curved bill it poked the ground with, and the swept back crest on its head. I am not an expert birder, but I do notice birds and browse bird guides on occasion, so I was able to guess that it was a hoopoe, the first I had ever seen.
We walked and the hoopoe worked, keeping a reasonable distance, until we climbed the final steepest part and ended up at the summit where we scouted for a site and set up to photograph. We watched a small falcon working the slopes below us as we made the photo, though we didn’t know we had it until film was processed and scanned back in Istanbul, packed up tripods and cameras, and walked back down from Herod’s palace in the desert quiet.
That’s really all there was, a small magic time in Mukawir, a sighting of a hoopoe, and, later, a photograph that captured, after four years of waiting, some of the magic and mystery of the place. Not a big thing, perhaps, but enough for a small and certain happiness.
I think we saw a hoopoe in Goreme recently. We too were struck by the interesting colors and markings.
ReplyDeleteAnd I am sure that you were not entirely alone with the Bedo living down in the caves at the foot of Mukawir, quietly watching you. It is a magical place. We were lucky enough to be there without tourists as well.