
“An olive is never just an olive,” I said to myself, driving through the desert in Tunisia. I was fascinated by the number of olive trees with their gnarled trunks and twisted branches. An olive is not only the fruit of a tree. It is an epic. It contains within itself all that has gone before. The roots are sunk into the earth and also deep into history. These olive groves appear as the sole oasis in the desert where I had gone to retrace the steps of Tertullian and breathe the same air as Augustine of Hippo. Were they moved too, by the antiquity of these branches?
Sometimes we linger over the exotic in order to better appreciate what we see...