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GAZA\/CAIRO: Haidar Abu Middain, 60, lifts a desiccated bough of a fallen olive tree and tosses it aside in the barren dirt of what was once one of the most prosperous groves in central Gaza.<\/strong><\/p>\n The family olive orchard he owned with his brothers and his \u200buncles used to span 900 dunums \u2014 220 acres \u2014 of trees that this time of year would be heavy with ripe fruit.<\/p>\n The whole \u200cclan would come out to gather the harvest \u2014 1,100 to 1,500 tons of olives piled in bushels \u2014 some to be sold as fruit, the rest pressed into enough fragrant oil to fill as many as 900 of the 16-litre drums in which it is typically sold.<\/p>\n Today, nearly half of the orchard lies beyond the \u201cyellow line\u201d guarded by Israeli troops who bar Palestinians \u200bfrom even entering two-thirds of the Gaza Strip. The other half of the grove, though still accessible, has mostly been bulldozed.<\/p>\n Only around 20 \u200bor 30 trees are somehow still standing. Abu Middain reckons they will produce just two drums of oil, not even enough \u2060for his own family.<\/p>\n \u201cThe produce before the war was blessed, it was enough to earn a livelihood for our families,\u201d he told Reuters. \u201cThe harvest from here \u200bused to be enough to supply the entire central area, with both oil and olives.\u201d<\/p>\n PRIZE CROP AND SANCTUARY<\/p>\n Before the war, olives were the jewels of Gaza agriculture, \u200bpressed into enough rich oil to serve as a staple for the local diet, and a small surplus for export to Israel. The shady groves abutting Gaza\u2019s concrete cities were a sanctuary for families in one of the world\u2019s most densely populated territories.<\/p>\n But a year after a ceasefire ended major fighting, almost all of the once-proud orchards are bulldozed under.<\/p>\n Gaza\u2019s agriculture \u200bauthorities estimate that of 2 million olive trees, barely 150,000 are still standing. They anticipate a harvest of about 5,000 tons of olives instead of the \u200busual 40,000, producing only 700 tons of oil instead of 5,000.<\/p>\n THERE\u2019S ZERO<\/p>\n Bushels of olives and drums of freshly pressed oil would normally be stacked high in Gaza\u2019s markets this time \u200cof year.<\/p>\n Nowadays \u2060there is barely any at all, and what does make it to market sells at around triple the pre-war price, nearly $500 a drum, well beyond what Gazan families can afford, said Imad al-Ajrami, 33, a shopper in Deir al-Balah market.<\/p>\n Authorities say only seven olive oil presses are still operating, down from about 40 before the war. They are barely functioning, said Fawaz Zidan, who has kept his press open in Deir al-Balah.<\/p>\n \u201cCompared to years before the war, there\u2019s zero. Because there \u200bare no olives, all of it \u200bhas been bulldozed, the olives are \u2060gone,\u201d he said as a handful of residents queued with plastic jerrycans to collect fresh oil from the spigot of the press.<\/p>\n In Deir al-Balah, a tiny part of central Gaza that Israeli forces declared a safe zone and held off \u200bfrom storming during the war, one of Gaza\u2019s few remaining olive groves still serves as a sanctuary at harvest \u200btime for Khalil Mansi \u2060and his family.<\/p>\n