A man dressed as a clown plays with a Palestinian girl on the first day of the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Fitr, which marks the end of the holy month of Ramadan, near the Dome of the Rock at the compound known to Muslims as the Noble Sanctuary and to Jews as Temple Mount, in Jerusalem's Old City, July 17, 2015.AMMAR AWAD/Reuters
After having lived here for more than eight years, I have lots of favourite spots in Jerusalem – places from which to view other places, areas to stroll and contemplate, spots to sit and people-watch.
I love to view the Old City at sunrise from atop the Mount of Olives. As the sun comes up behind you, its rays reflect quite magically from the golden Dome of the Rock. With the Garden of Gethsemane below you and the historic Jewish cemetery at your feet, it's one of the nicest, and quietest, commingling of the three monotheistic faiths.
I tell first-time visitors to Jerusalem to try to visit that spot early in their stay – it gives you a lasting, warm feeling of the people and history of this city.
I also tell them to stop by the YMCA in West Jerusalem, even if just to sit on its lovely terrace and enjoy a morning coffee, late afternoon beer (the Palestinian beer Taybeh is on tap) or a midday lemonade with fresh mint.
Dinner there in the nice outdoor weather is a treat, especially with the range of languages within earshot: Hebrew, most of all (despite the organization's Christian establishment), English (in a variety of accents), Arabic, spoken by most of the staff and some of the guests, French, German and so on. (Try the musakhan.) Yes, I also love getting lost in the Old City (in any of its quarters); the solemnity of the Western Wall, and the stillness of the Haram as-Sharif. Of more recent vintage, I like the swagger of the modernized German Colony, the mix of sophistication and history in the courtyard of the American Colony Hotel (though its rooms have long been too expensive to stay there) and the charm of Ethiopia Street where the Ethiopian Christian enclave abuts the Orthodox Jewish Mea Sharim neighbourhood.
But, truth to tell, despite my best efforts to remain curmudgeonly, the place that never fails to put a smile on my face is a garden area called Liberty Bell Park, in West Jerusalem, on the edge of the eastern side. It's not an enormous place – perhaps three acres of grass, sandy playgrounds and paved sports areas.
The complex never seems empty during daylight hours – teenagers play basketball and soccer, kids rollerblade and play various ball games, while toddlers enjoy the swings, slides and various climbing apparatus.
There always seems to be the smell of barbecuing meat, and clusters of families picnicking.
I realize you'll find that anywhere in Canada on a sunny weekend, but what's remarkable about this park is the mix of people.
The crowd is almost evenly divided between Jew and Arab (both Arab Israeli and Palestinian from nearby East Jerusalem), with a fair number of Ethiopians (both Jewish and Christian). Most come here because their homes don't have a proper outdoor area in which to relax together and because they don't have a car with which to drive to places further afield.
And while the different ethnic groups tend to keep to themselves while picnicking, their children are inclined to mix quite freely.
At the swings, an Arab father pushes his daughter, while beside him a Jewish father tries to keep his daughter from swinging too high. Neither man speaks to the other, but both girls are laughing.
Then, when the Jewish man's younger son takes a tumble at the nearby slide, he must run to help him – what to do with his daughter, however, who is too young to be left alone?
"Don't worry, I'll watch her," says the Arab father in Hebrew. With only a second of hesitation, the Israeli father nods his thanks and rushes off to his crying son.
It's a place that might have represented the way things are in this historically mixed area, and might represent the way things will be.