A routine shop window in central Jerusalem has turned into something else entirely. Behind the colorful fish tank: dug-up sidewalks, traffic jams, and constant construction noise. The image flips our perspective — perhaps the fish are the ones truly living, while we’re the ones swimming in circles, boxed in by concrete and fences. Is this city still alive — or are we just surviving inside a glass tank
Jerusalem Keeps Digging — and So Do We
Jaffa Street, a central artery of Jerusalem, is undergoing long-term transformation. On May 21, 2025, a new phase of light rail construction began — a 14-week infrastructure project that will disrupt commutes, cut off stations, and reroute the light rail temporarily. Metal fences, detours, and clouds of dust have become part of daily life. For pedestrians, walking along Jaffa Street feels like navigating a carefully confined route — not unlike a fish in a tank
Whether intentional or not, the photo captures something deeper: the growing disconnect between residents and their city. Movement never stops in Jerusalem, but quiet is harder to find. Like the fish, we move from task to task — to work, to errands — without knowing whether we’re heading somewhere or circling the same plastic coral again and again
And yet, the image offers a moment of stillness. Someone paused, looked, and noticed. Even in noise, a story can emerge — one of a city, its inhabitants, and the quiet gaze that reveals more than it hides
In a Broader View
What started as a visual anecdote becomes a small piece of a larger urban feeling. Jerusalem in 2025 is full of infrastructure, tension, and change — but also a creeping sense of suffocation. Maybe the glass isn’t just physical. Maybe the city itself is changing before we’ve had time to ask how — or why
And maybe the fish, in their illusion of peace, are reminding us: it’s okay to stop. To observe. To breathe again, even inside a glass tank of motion
