I'm writing from the coach cabin on El Al flight 006 from L.A. to Tel Aviv, heading back to Israel for another week of journalism and reconnecting.

This trip will be quick, and seems easy. Actually, it was very hard to arrange.

Last month, everyone was canceling everything, fearing a much wider war in the Middle East. I had a ticket on British Airways, and they canceled ALL flights to Israel through early next year. Two tours I might have accompanied also canceled.

I looked at fares on El Al, and they were prohibitively expensive. Suddenly, after refreshing the website for days, a fare popped up that was reasonable -- normal, even. I didn't hesitate; I moved ahead and booked my ticket.

My ambition is to get to Lebanon, somehow. I don't need to go far into the place; I certainly don't want to go anywhere particularly dangerous (though it's all a little dicey). I just want to stand there and look back at Israel.

I have a specific reason for wanting to do so: when I was at the Lebanese border in November (on the Israeli side), it was clear that the Hezbollah-controlled villages had the topographical high ground. That's a reality I want to convey to the world.

I'd also like to get to Gaza, if possible, and report on what is happening there -- again, as safely as is possible. I'd also like to report on the mood in Israel, the effort to rebuild the communities around Gaza, and the prospects for peace.

I think my coverage may help to shape American perceptions, particularly in the emerging Trump administration (to the extent that they read my stuff), which is moving toward peace deals, hopefully on favorable terms.

Along the way, I'm hoping to reconnect with friends and family, and to the spirit that draws me to that magnificent country and its brave and beautiful people, who are among the world's happiest despite -- or because of -- their struggles.