The following are entries from my journal during the second week of the war with Iran. If you'd like to read the first installment of this series, click here. 3/7/26 Last night was terrible.   Here’s what the night looked like: 19:16 Incoming missile pre-alert 19:19 Rocket & missile fire 20:41 Rocket & missile fire 21:54 Pre-alert 21:56 Rocket & missile fire 00:32 Pre-alert 00:37 Rocket & missile fire 00:50 Event ends 4:56 Pre-alert 5:00 Rocket & missile fire 5:14 Event ends

A collection of Israeli newspapers in a box of Purim accessories. The front page headline translates to, "Iran is the most disturbing arena right now." There’s been a tension boiling in the air since January. It seemed so likely that we would go to war then. At the time, I was dog-sitting for a week in a home without a bomb shelter. (Whereas this is normal in the rest of the world, it is not normal here.) I’d had a talking-to with Beauty, the aptly-named husky I was dog-sitti

A slow walk from the chaos of the shuk to the calm of the shoreline reveals a Tel Aviv most people rush past. These photos capture the small, everyday moments that give the city its pulse. No itinerary, no agenda. Just Tel Aviv as it looks when you’re paying attention.

On Monday morning at Hostage Square, the air was thick with relief, hope, and quiet celebration. With each announcement of a safe return, hearts lifted and tears were shared among strangers united by fear, grief, and finally, the joy of homecomings. Through my lens, I captured these fleeting, tender moments, these snapshots of a nation slowly breathing again.