A few weeks ago, I traveled to Israel with my ten-year-old
daughter Sage, to participate in the olive harvest. This was my
long-awaited opportunity to do hands-on research for a picture
book I’m writing and illustrating about an ancient olive tree. I
couldn’t wait to roll up my sleeves and get out in the olive
grove. There’s something special about hands-on research. In
this age of unprecedented convenience, we have the technological
ability to access information from all over the world in a
matter of seconds. But information obtained this way can lack
authenticity, and often appears out of context. Rarely do I have
the opportunity to physically experience what I’m drawing or
writing about. But there’s no substitute for direct experience
when it comes to bringing a story to life. The morning after we
arrived at Kibbutz Gezer, a half a dozen olive pickers gathered
by the side of the road that encircles the kibbutz. Inside the
circle, the homes for approximately 400 people are clustered
together. Outside the ci