Our first time at Yatir, we hiked in the rain. Grey clouds and a foggy drizzle were an enchanting background to this sprawling pine forest in the South. We trudged over damp pine needles, past hidden caves, and stopped for a picnic in the grass under the trees. I remember peeling oranges, their bright citrus scent cutting through the wet air, drinking steaming coffee from thermoses, our breath visible in the December cold – a perfect wintertime excursion into nature.
The scenery at Yatir is surprising. Heading south from Central Israel, the landscape shifts dramatically – you expect desert views in this part of the country, sand dunes and rocky trails stretching toward the Negev. And although Yatir is indeed bordered by desert terrain, the forest itself is actually the largest planted one in Israel, covering over 30,000 acres. It’s a hidden gem in the South, an unexpected oasis of green where the mountains meet the wilderness.
Recently, we returned to Yatir Forest. The scenery was much the same: endless rows of pine trees stretching as far as we could see, made colorful by yellow Sternbergia flowers that carpeted the forest floor like scattered coins. The air smelled of pine resin and damp earth. But as we hiked this time around, following a trail that wound through the trees, we passed by Hurvat Yatir – a collection of ancient ruins rising from otherwise unremarkable terrain.
There were crumbling stone arches, their curves still elegant after centuries. The remains of intricate mosaic floors peeked through the stone, geometric patterns in faded colors. Underground cisterns yawned open, their depths dark and cool. Ancient olive presses lay scattered among the stones, their crushing basins still visible, waiting for fruit that would never come.
WE EXPLORED the ruins slowly. My husband wandered, running his hands over ancient walls and peeking into nooks. I perched under one arched doorway, sheltered from the wind, and took in the view: rolling green hills under a cloudy sky, bordered by an endless pine forest stretching toward the southern desert. I imagined what life must have been like for whoever lived in this ancient town – the daily rhythms, the work, the prayers, the ordinary moments that make up a life in any era.
But until stumbling upon the ruins that morning, I had no idea that Yatir – this modern forest, an Israel Trail hiking destination – had such an ancient and significant past.
The history, it turns out, goes back three thousand years.
Yatir's biblical legacy
Yatir – or Jattir, as it appears in English translations – is mentioned four times in the bible. It was one of the Levite cities, specifically allocated to the descendants of Aaron the priest. As the first book of Chronicles records: “To the sons of Aaron they gave the cities of refuge: Hebron, Libnah with its pasturelands, Jattir, and Eshtemoa with its pastures” (6:57).
The Levite cities were strategically distributed throughout Israel as centers of Torah learning and religious influence. Yatir, nestled in the mountains of southern Judah, was one of these spiritual anchors – a place where priests lived, taught, and served.
But Yatir also appears in a more dramatic context. In the first book of Samuel, after David’s successful raid against the Amalekites during his years as an outlaw, he shared the spoils of war with his allies throughout Judah. The text specifically names Yatir as one of the towns that received a portion: “To them which were in Bethel, and to them which were in south Ramoth, and to them which were in Jattir” (30:27).
This wasn’t just a priestly city in theory – it was a living community with elders and leaders, significant enough that David cultivated relationships there. These were his southern allies, the towns of Judah who would eventually support his claim to the throne.
STANDING AMONG the ruins that afternoon, these stories suddenly made sense. The olive presses – agricultural land worked by priestly families. The cisterns – careful water management where rain is precious. The mosaics – evidence of a later Byzantine period, when Yatir became Iethira, a Christian town that remembered its Jewish past.
The visible ruins date primarily to this Byzantine era, centuries after David’s time. But beneath them, archaeologists have found pottery shards and wall foundations from the 10th century BCE – the Kingdom of Judah period. The Yatir that David knew is buried under later construction, layers down, waiting.
We finished our exploration as the afternoon light began to fade. The forest was quiet – just wind through pines and the occasional bird call. In winter, Yatir doesn’t draw crowds. We had the ruins mostly to ourselves.
I thought about how we’d hiked here before without even knowing the ruins existed. How typical that is of hiking in Israel – you set out for a forest walk and stumble onto a three-thousand-year-old priestly city. Suddenly, you’re standing where David’s allies lived, where kohanim lived and served God in the mountains of Judah.
Here, an ordinary trail becomes extraordinary when you know what you’re walking through. In Israel, biblical history isn’t locked away in museums – it’s just there, scattered across the hillsides, waiting for anyone who takes the time to look.
We packed up and continued down the trail as the sky darkened. The forest stretched on ahead of us, green and quiet and full of secrets.
The writer is the creator of Hiking the Holyland (hikingintheholyland.com) and author of From Southerner to Settler: Unexpected Lessons from the Land of Israel.