earth & unearth

[carolinelauth]

arrivederci

Greetings from Coldigioco! After traveling for about a month after the program ended, I had the opportunity to come back. I've spent the last week here, doing more work for my senior thesis and enjoying the last bit of time I'll get to spend in this beautiful little corner of the world. 

In the past month - while being away from Italy, traveling with friends from the program, having time and space to look back on this fall, trying to explain the experience to people along the way ("we lived in a small town - well not really a town, more like a village for geologists," "we didn't really have classes, it was mostly field work and hanging out in the mountains," "we got to go to Tuscany and the Dolomites and Croatia," "we also got to travel a lot on the weekends," "everyone in the program was awesome," "yes, Sandro really did drive us around, teach us all day, and then cook an amazing dinner for us at night," "yes, Sandro knows everything and is in fact a knight" [but actually], "yes, it was an unbelievable program and I've never heard of any other like it and I am the luckiest person in the world," etc etc etc) - I've come to realize more acutely how utterly amazing Colidigoco and this program are. It was fun, obviously (how could you not enjoy spending the fall in Italy and touring the mountains and enjoying Verdicchio with dinner every night?), but it was so much more than that. People always say, "it was everything I hoped for and more!" and it sounds pretty stupid and cliche. But really, truly, it was - it was everything I hoped for, everything I couldn't have expected to hope for, and more. As an opportunity for a geology student to study abroad and learn about a fascinating piece of the Earth, in a hands-on and engaging and challenging and interesting and relaxed way, there really is no other place or program like this anywhere else in the world. 

So, as I leave Coldigioco again, here are some more beautiful moments from the fall.

On the first weekend here we explored Ancona, a nearby coastal city  - we got lost and found ourselves at this amazing lookout over the city. A good start to a great program. 

That same weekend we hiked up Monte San Vicino, our local mountain. Some of us camped out the night before at the base of the mountain and woke up in a cloud. The view was spectacular from the top (when we weren't enveloped in clouds).

The clouds parted momentarily on the hike up San Vicino, offering an incredible view of the Apennines in the distance.

A weekend in Bologna was spent wandering the city and sampling every delicious food we found. 

A magical day in Assisi - it started out as a beautiful blue-sky day and we watched as rain clouds gradually moved in from the plains and enveloped the town. I was at a fort overlooking the city as it turned into a spectacular thunderstorm. 

COLDI DAY! A weekend full of Coldi-lympics festivities.

Swimming at the reservoir nearby (in October!).

Urbino, a gorgeous town known for its legacy of Renaissance art. 

Monte San Vicino (in the clouds, per usual) seen from Coldigioco this morning. Arrivederci, Coldigioco, e grazie per tutto.

[carolinelauth]

the end

Somehow it is October 31st and the program has all too quickly drawn to a close. The past two weeks have been spent here at Coldigioco, working on our final projects. As we get closer to leaving, I've begun to realize more how utterly incredible this program has been - the people, the place, the geology, EVERYTHING. The last bit has been especially magical, maybe because I know it will be over soon and I'm trying to appreciate every last drop of it. But I can't remember a time in recent memory when I have been so thoroughly and continuously happy. I feel absurdly lucky to have had the opportunity to learn and travel and see and do all of the things we have here, and I have no doubt that this experience will continue to influence me long after the program is over. It will be hard to leave Coldigioco tomorrow and say goodbye to the amazing people who have been my family for the past three months and this beautiful place that has become our home.

Hope and me at our final art show. I think this photograph nearly captures the feelings of love, happiness, excitement, gratitude, & general positivity that have permeated the final weeks of the program.

The last major academic component of the program was our independent research project. Nelson and I took nearly 650 samples from a 34-meter limestone core from nearby Monte Conero. We used a hammer and chisel to collect samples and a good ol' mortar and pestle to crush them, which took several days - bet you never realized geology was so glamorous. By then measuring the magnetic susceptibility of the samples (which acts as a paleoclimate proxy) and using fancy computer software to do some fast Fourier transforms, we were able to detect the influence of Milankovitch cycles (astronomical cycles that influence climate, for example ice ages, but also more subtle climatic variations detectable in the rock record) in our section. We were also trying to constrain the date of the Oligocene-Miocene boundary, which means nothing to the average person but to a geology major is PRETTY FREAKING COOL. This is the project that will become my comps (senior thesis) back at Carleton, so it was pretty exciting to spend 10 days extracting 20-million year old climate data from some some seemingly nondescript grey rocks.

After finishing our final projects, we spent a couple of days hanging out and picking olives in our backyard. Here Brian is demonstrating the proper technique for collecting olives with a tool that resembles a mega-sized back scratcher.

A faction of THE COLDI CREW. The goofiest, greatest ragtag team I know. Love you guys.

[carolinelauth]

croatia

This past week we went to Croatia, to the island of Hvar where our studies tied together all the topics we've learned about throughout the program: tectonics, carbonate geology, paleoclimate, rivers, soils, archaeology, and modern interactions with the land. We were lucky enough to have perfect, summery weather and invariably our days ended with swimming in the ocean. Croatia is extraordinarily, strikingly beautiful, and the trip felt more like a weeklong vacation in paradise than school. 

Split, a city on the mainland, from our ferry. We spent an afternoon learning about the history of the city and wandering around the Diocletian Palace, the ancient walled fortress that is the center of the old city.

On one of our first days in Hvar, we spent the entire day walking along the coast to learn about the limestone formations, relics of an ancient carbonate platform, that today make up the shore.

And at the end of the day, we ended at a little bay where we swam and enjoyed the sunset. 

Driving along the limestone cliffs on the southern shore of the island.

We ate lunch one day in Stari Grad, the oldest city on the island of Hvar. Originally called Faros, it was founded by the Greeks in 384 BCE.

Sunset overlooking Stari Grad, the town visible in the background. The hills are crisscrossed with old stone walls and terraces created to make the hillsides suitable for agriculture. Lavender is grown everywhere here, and all of the towns smell of it.

Another day was spent island hopping around Hvar looking at karst features and agriculture on the small limestone islands.

And, because it's geology, a requisite rock picture: the limestone shores on one of the islands was filled with beautiful crystalline calcite.

Walking through a vineyard on Vlaka, an island near Hvar.

On the ferry from Hvar back to the mainland. The mountains in the background are the Dinarides, the mountains that stretch along the eastern coast of the Adriatic. 

[carolinelauth]

back at coldigioco

The next part of the program kept us near Coldigioco for about two weeks while we learned about surface geology and its influences on humans. For one project we studied sediment transport in the Musone River, a stream that flows from the Apennines down to the Adriatic. For a second project we studied soils in vineyards throughout the region to learn about how bedrock geology and geomorphology influence soil and, ultimately, the wine grown in those soils. We also spent a day in Ancona, where we learned about the archaeology of Le Marche (especially about the Picenians, the early pre-Hellenistic inhabitants of the region) and the modern-day geological issue of landslides.

For the first project we took sediment samples from several sites along the Musone River. Here Hope, my partner for the project and also my lovable roommate at Coldi, shows her enthusiasm for flysch and braided streams.

The second project focused on the soils of the Castelli di Jesi and Matelica terroirs (two distinct geologic & geographic areas where Verdicchio wine is cultivated). We toured 7 vineyards around the region, taking soil samples in each to analyze back in the lab.

This was one of my favorite projects so far, because it is an interesting example of why geology matters so much to us. When I mention that I am a geology major, a common question is 'so, you study rocks...?' which fails to grasp what is really fascinating and important, at least to me, about the field. This application of geology, on the other hand, is both concrete and compelling: do you drink wine? do you eat food? If so, geology matters immensely to you.

And after studying about wines, of course, we had to sample them. A sommelier came to Coldigioco and taught us about the differences in taste between the Verdicchios from the vineyards we'd visited. (Yes, I'm getting college credit for this.)

And to complement the wine, our master sommelier Gualberto cooked a traditional Le Marche soup for us, chock full of cuttlefish, octopus, prawns, mussels and fish heads. Yum!

[carolinelauth]

københavn

About halfway through the program we had a 5-day break. I'd been planning on staying in Italy to travel, but at the last minute I changed my mind, bought a plane ticket to Copenhagen, and flew north less than 12 hours later. (Which I didn't think much of at the time, but in retrospect and after watching a particularly horrifying movie about the Danish penal system, makes me realize how absurdly privileged and fortunate and unrestricted I am. This is something that I often think about, especially in light of the incredible opportunities and experiences I've had this summer and fall, but that I feel even more acutely now.)

I went to Copenhagen to visit Samantha, a widji friend who's living there for the year. It was a much needed break from the stresses of studying geology in the mountains, sight seeing, hiking, and the Italian lifestyle in general. (Ha.) It was wonderful to see an old friend from home and go farther north, where it was a bit cooler and more autumnal than the still-summery Italian September. The water and chill air and just-starting-to-turn leaves reminded me of the Minnesota falls I love from home. The whole trip was very hygge (my favorite Danish word, which has no direct translation but encompasses feelings of warmth, fun, coziness, & general goodness). 

On an overcast afternoon I walked along Nyhavn, one of the canals in the city center and an iconic Copenhagen destination.

On a sunnier afternoon I took a canal tour through the city. The weather was unseasonably warm & sunny while I was there - on a couple of afternoons there were clear blue skies and people flocked to the lakes and canals to soak in the last bits of summery weather.

Nyhavn on a sunny afternoon. 

It started drizzling after the canal tour and a rainbow stretched over the whole city as Anderson (a friend from the Italy program) and I walked back home to Sam's apartment. In the background is a group of hippies playing loud, cacophonous music right there in the rain. It was a great and almost surreal moment. Not the most stellar photo but it catches a glimpse of Copenhagen's quiet beauty: dull grey skies, somewhat reserved architecture, chill nordic weather and yet a lively, vibrant feel to the city. Copenhagen is gorgeous, but not in the bright, obvious Italian way; it's beautiful like the curls of steam rising from a cup of tea on a winter's morning, like pulling on your favorite old sweater on the first rainy day of fall, like the shadows in a Rembrandt painting, like returning to a place you hadn't realized you'd missed. Going north felt a bit like going home. But even better was the feeling of returning to Coldigioco at the end of the week and knowing that, for a few more weeks at least, this little Italian paradise was actually home.

[carolinelauth]

dolomiti

A recent unit took us to the Dolomites in northern Italy to study paleoenvironments and tectonics. It was an incredible week of hiking and learning in perhaps the most stunningly beautiful place I've ever been.

An afternoon hike took us to a ridge above Passo Sella.

From above Passo Sella there was a killer view of the mountain range - including a prime example of a reef complex (the prominent dolomite peaks in the middle) and an alpine lake with a cool endemic amphibian species.

Relaxing after a picnic lunch near Passo Sella (photo cred to Anderson Cole).

We stayed at an amazing alpine lodge in the Val di Fassa. It felt a little bit like living in a fairy tale.

On our last day hike we did some work below Santa Croce, which offered an excellent view of Marmolada, a glacier and the highest peak in the Dolomites.

[carolinelauth]

toscana

One unit took us to Tuscany to study the tectonic evolution of the northern Apennines. They're part of the same mountain range we have here in the Umbria-Marche, but this area has a more complex, interesting, enigmatic geologic story. We stayed in a little mountain hotel in the Alpi Apuane (a particularly striking part of the range), and spent a few days of "class" driving and hiking around, piecing together the tectonic history of the mountains.

  A road above Carrara offers a view out over a marble quarry, the city and, in the distance, the Tyrrhenian Sea.

TUSCANY IS GORGEOUS.

On one of our last days we hiked up a mountain to look out over the mountains we'd been studying. But it was raining when we got to the top, so all we could see were the clouds that surrounded us and the peak.

BUT then the clouds cleared and offered an amazing view out over the series of ridges that make up the Apennines.

Sunset over the Alpi Apuane on our last night in Tuscany. (This was the view from our hotel.)

[carolinelauth]

sibillini

On one of our first weekends here, I went to the Parco Nazionale dei Monti Sibillini with some friends from the program. It was one of the most magical places I have ever been.

The gran piano, a wide agricultural plain near the town of Castellucio, offers a spectacular welcome into the mountains.

We did a day hike up Monte Vettore, the highest peak in Sibillini.

Admiring the geology near the peak of Monte Vettore.

The sun peaked through the clouds on our way down, illuminating the gran piano.

After our day hike, we drove through the mountains in search of a place to camp. Eventually we pulled over on the side of the road, and didn't see until the morning how gorgeous our bivouac was.

We stopped in Norcia on the way home, a small town known for its incredible cured meats (especially wild boar...). Yet another place of stunning beauty in the Sibillini. 

[carolinelauth]

in the field

Most days, we drive into the field to learn about the geology of the region or collect data.

Our first week here, we spent our days driving around and stopping at outcrops to become familiar with the local geology.

Our cyclostratigraphy project entailed measuring a section of limestone and swimming in a river. It's pretty serious work.

One especially good day started out grey and foggy. Once we drove up the mountain, though, we found ourselves above the clouds in a bright, sunny, clear blue sky.

[carolinelauth]

italia

It only took six weeks, but here are some highlights from the first half of the "Earth & the Environment in Italy" program.

installment #1: COLDIGIOCO

Coldigioco is a town (piccolo piccolo piccolo) in the Umbria-Marche region in central-eastern Italy. It has a population of approximately 20 - that is, we are the only ones who live here. It was an abandoned town that was bought by geologists and turned into the Osservatorio Geologico di Coldigioco. Today geologists and students from around the world come here to study the geology of the Apennines.

We're located between the Apennine mountains and the Adriatic Sea, in a region with a rich tectonic, climatic, and environmental history. So far we've had the opportunity to study a diverse array of topics from several different stages of Earth history and in several different regions. Studying geology here is a bit like signing up for a religion program and, only after arriving, realizing that you get to live and study in Jerusalem. There is something important to learn here for geoscientists of all stripes, and the region is home to some of the key geological discoveries of our age (for example, early proponents of the K-T impact theory Luis and Walter Alvarez developed their hypothesis based on their work here). It has been a better experience than I could have ever anticipated - and somehow it keeps getting better. I don't have enough good words to say about the program / place / people  (and rocks). So I'll let some pictures do the talking.

A sunset at Coldigioco! This is Monte San Vicino (on the left), our friendly neighborhood mountain. 

This is the view from our porch / school room / kitchen / hangout spot. The tall building in the distance is an 11th century watch tower in Isola.

It's warm enough to sleep outside here (still!), so this is the view I wake up to in the morning. Not a bad way to start the day.

I took this photo while driving to the field one morning past Lago di Cingoli (a reservoir nearby where we sometimes go swimming). At the end of the summer there were fields of sunflowers in bloom everywhere, so the hillsides were a gorgeous sunny yellow. This picture only hints at how beautiful, lush, and amazing it truly is here. 

[carolinelauth]

up north

After my last week at Azekah, I spent a night in Tel Aviv with TAU students and other volunteers from the program. Then I headed up north for the rest of my time in Israel. Ostensibly traveling by myself for the week, I ended up staying with some family in the Galillee for a few days and then met several other travelers with whom I explored the northern coast. It was a mostly relaxing and occasionally crazy week getting to know some more incredible people and places in this truly amazing country. 

First I visited some family at kibbutz Kfar Blum in the Galilee for a few days. The kibbutz is in the Hula Valley, where there are incredible views of the upper Galilee and the Golan Heights. My uncle Yonaton and his family were generous enough to let me spend shabbat with them. A highlight was swimming in the Jordan River where it flows through their kibbutz. 

 Yonaton drove me around the Galilee for two days, showing me site after site - lots of history, hiking, great views, great company and, of course, great hummus. 

Next stop was Tiberias. I spent an extremely (one might say miserably) hot afternoon exploring the somewhat grimy, run-down city. This was the one gem of Tiberias - the view from the peaceful rooftop of a little monastery that looked out over the Sea of Galilee.

I visited Beit She'an, an archaeological site with an impressive Roman amphitheater and cardo. This was the view from the tel looking down on the center of the ancient city.

Then I spent a couple of days in Haifa and did day trips around the northern coast with people I met at my hostel. A Dutch friend and I visited Rosh HaNikra, a site on the Lebanese border where there are beautiful sea caves that you can meander through. We spent the afternoon in Akko, an ancient walled city right on the coast.

Next I visited Caesarea, a port city that was built up by Herod (but was inhabited for hundreds of years before and after that). A German friend and I spent the morning walking around the expansive ruins and the beach front. The coolest part was the lower palace - it used to sit on a promontory sticking out into the ocean, but over time the waves have eroded most of the palace away. You can still see the outline of the pool that was in the middle of the palace, as well as some walls and mosaic floors.

On my last day in Haifa, another friend and I walked all the way up Mount Carmel (the hill in the middle of the city) to visit the Bahá'í gardens. The view from the top was incredible, and the gardens were stunning. There are a couple more terraces above where I was standing when I took this picture, and 9 more terraces below the domed shrine in the middle. I hadn't known much about the Bahá'í faith before, but it was fascinating to learn about - they affirm the "unity of humanity," basically meaning that they believe in gender/racial/cultural/religious equality and tolerance. A pretty radical and refreshing doctrine in a region that has too often been plagued by religious extremism and/or intolerance. The garden seemed to emanate the spirit of the religion itself and was incredibly peaceful and beautiful. 

[carolinelauth]

god bless the iron dome

I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago, but so as to avoid unnecessary stress for my parents I decided to wait to post it until I had safely left Israel.

---

Early one morning on my first week here, the director of the dig came to our area to announce that a ceasefire had been brokered by the US and Egypt. Israel had agreed, he said, and Hamas hadn't agreed to the ceasefire but purportedly said that if the IDF halted their aggression in Gaza, Hamas would stop with the rockets. There was a generally optimistic air about the site until breakfast rolled around at 9am (the time the ceasefire was supposed to start). Low rumblings that sounded like thunder could be heard in the distance – a sound that can only be interpreted as rockets being shot at Israel and intercepted by the Iron Dome.

Three weeks after the rocket fire started, it has become part of everyday life here. We're accustomed to the rumbling in the distance to the point that I usually only notice its absence now – some mornings are especially quiet, and we allow ourselves to be hopeful that maybe a ceasefire will stick this time. Some days you can see small clouds of smoke from where rockets have been intercepted, or even small orange bursts that look like fireworks going off.

Not all of the rockets have been so far off in the distance. During the weekend I was in Jerusalem, a rocket landed on our kibbutz. Luckily it only hit a field near a chicken coop, so no one was hurt (though I don't know how the chickens fared). But that made it hit, literally, a bit closer to home. The following week we had a few sirens, requiring us to hunker down on the tel or in one of the shelters at the kibbutz. It is a little unsettling at first and while it is not an experience I would especially care to repeat, oddly enough, you get used to it.

And still, I feel safe and very removed from the fighting. The thunder has become a regular soundtrack to our digging – it's not constant, or even that noticeable, but every once in a while there will be a particularly loud explosion that is a visceral reminder that, in fact, we are living very close to a war zone. I don't feel like I'm in immediate danger, but it's a reminder that there are people fighting and dying close by. It's not an experience I've ever had before nor, unlike the sounds of thunder in the distance, one I think I will get used to.

[carolinelauth]

to the dead sea

Last weekend I went on a tour with members of the dig to the Dead Sea. Led again by our fabulous tour guide Lisa, it was a lovely and relaxing (and HOT) weekend full of history and natural beauty.

We arrived at our hostel after dark and woke up the next morning to this incredible view of the Dead Sea and Ein Gedi oasis.

At Mineral Beach on the Dead Sea, the water is so saline that all of the rocks on shore are coated with a thick layer of crystallized salt. 

Qasr al-Yahud, the site where Jesus is said to have been baptized. The green swath in the foreground is the Jordan River, and the land in the background is Jordan itself. 

Next we visited Masada, the huge fortress towering over the Dead Sea that served as Herod's winter palace and was the site of the Jews' last stand against the Romans in 73 CE. Here you can see the ruins of a Roman army camp, several of which encircled the plateau during the siege. I remember learning about the battle at Masada during a class on Judaism I took freshman year, so it was pretty amazing to be able to see the real place.

The Dead Sea was incredibly peaceful. Here the surface is still as glass (i.e. no wind to temper the boiling heat).

And possibly my favorite part of the weekend: hiking in Ein Gedi nature preserve and swimming in David's Waterfall. A gorgeous and much-needed respite from the heat.

[carolinelauth]

a sad day at azekah

During the weekend in Jerusalem we heard about the plane crash in the Ukraine (this was a couple of weekends ago by now). No one needed another reminder of the sad, violent, senseless conflicts that are happening nearby, but I didn’t dwell on it until a friend at Azekah told us that six of his friends had been on the plane. I didn’t know them, or anyone in the plane, and I don’t personally know anyone in Gaza for that matter. But it hit uncomfortably close to home. You never think it will be you, or someone you know, or even a friend of someone you know who will be hurt.

A few days later we learned that the Australians were being sent home by their university. Macquarie Uni decided it was too dangerous to let their students stay, against the advice of the director of the dig and the daily reality here – we hear rockets every day, but we are removed enough from the fighting to feel safe and mostly unaffected by it. It was sad to see them leave – there were tears and a lot of frustration with Macquarie’s decision. But at least we’re safe, whether it’s back in Australia or here at Azekah. There are people fighting and dying less than 30 miles away, but our greatest sadness is that our friends have to leave. That doesn’t mean it’s not still sad, but it helps to put our sadness in perspective with the greater conflict that caused this situation in the first place.

With all of this, there was a somber air around Azekah last week Even though I do feel completely safe here, it’s hard to not let the unpredictability and distress of the current situation weigh on you. For those of us who are visiting, we can just leave if the conflict worsens. But as an Australian friend commented, our lives are no more valuable than Palestinians or Israelis. It almost seems disrespectful to flee when for others this is their daily reality, this is their home. I pray for peace.

A beautiful, peaceful sunset at the kibbutz. The view betrays no indication that four rockets exploded in the sky the minute before I took this photo. 

[carolinelauth]

back to jerusalem

I joined a group from the dig on a weekend tour to Jerusalem. We saw many of the same sites I'd seen before (Church of the Holy Sepulcher, City of David, Hezekiah's tunnel, Via Dolorosa, the Cardo, the Western Wall), but it was no less amazing the second time around.  

Sunrise from the roof of our hotel. The shining gold dome is the Dome of the Rock.

Our group!

Dome of the Rock again - the view never gets old

[carolinelauth]

at the dig

So, what does a typical day at the dig look like?

The day starts around 4am. (I of course roll out of bed at about 4:30 or as close to the bus’s departure as I can manage). Buses drive us to the site, where we carry all of our gear up a hill that is modest in daylight but feels very steep and very, very long when ascended before sunrise laden with tools.

Then, we dig. This can mean several things: from hard manual labor with a pickaxe to move big quantities of dirt; to using a trowel to articulate features, to delicate cleaning work with a brush. I’m usually assigned to more strenuous and intellectually demanding activities of pickaxing, hauling buckets, and throwing rocks. This is probably due to my high tolerance for activities that are conventionally considered unpleasant (thanks to all that Widji training in carrying unreasonably heavy objects for long distances). Sometimes we find cool things like architecture, pottery, stone tools, metal artifacts, or bones. A lot of the time, we just move dirt from one place to another. And, maybe surprisingly, I love it. This is archaeology – as glamorous as you imagined?

Then, the most heavenly breakfast one can imagine: vegetables and hummus and cheese and shakshouka and mufleta and pita and cereal and coffee. Then, back to work until popsicle break, where we have the chance to sit and admire the glorious view from the top of the tel. The area where I work faces west, so the breeze from the Mediterranean keeps us cool in the boiling summer afternoons. On clear days you can see all the way to the sea. The work day ends at 1pm when we take buses back to the kibbutz to wash pottery sherds from the site. Then we have the afternoon free to lounge around the kibbutz, swim in the pool (yes there’s a pool), and relax. At least in theory. In reality I attend two lectures an evening (on the history of the shephelah, archaeological field methods, nearby sites and other topics in archaeology of the ancient Near East). After the lectures end at 9pm, we hang out on the lawn. But by then I’m usually exhausted and eager to go to bed in order to rest up for another 4am day.  

At the tel with some Aussie friends.

Once a week we go on tours of other local archaeological sites. Here we’re at Tel es-Safi, also known as Gath (hometown of Goliath). It’s an interesting juxtaposition of the new and ancient - makes you wonder what archaeologists of the future will think of our civilization.

[carolinelauth]

to azekah!

Next we went to kibbutz Galon, where the members of the excavation are staying. The group has been excavating at Tel Azekah since 2012, so it's a relatively young site in terms of archaeology, but it was inhabited beginning in the early Bronze Age. Azekah is located on the ancient boundary between Philistia and Judah (think Iron Age / Biblical times) and beside the Elah valley, which is perhaps best known as the site of the battle of David and Goliath mentioned in 1 Samuel 17. Due to its location between these kingdoms and next to the road to Jerusalem, possession of the tel (a mound or hill) passed between different groups over time. It is mentioned in Sennacherib's “letter to God” in which he proclaims the victory of the Assyrian army over Azekah. Such conquests may be recorded in the archaeological record as a destruction layer – i.e. broken pots, ruined architecture, evidence of a fire etc. From an archaeological viewpoint, it's unfortunate that so much of the history of the tel was destroyed by conquering armies. From a humanistic viewpoint, it's hard to understand the necessity of such destruction and sad that this tendency doesn't seem to have diminished much over time.  

The site is divided up into several areas, each of which has its own area supervisor and dig team. This is one of the areas on top of the tel (looking west, toward the Judaean mountains).

A tour of area W1 on the northwestern side of the tel.

View from the top of the tel.