". . . Anyone who has known life in the Sahara, its appearance of solitude and desolatio
For the past two days I catch glimpses of what de Saint Exupery experienced . . . I yearn for more. My time "camping" in the desert was much too short and not nearly as remote as I would have preferred. I had hoped to feel more "out there" — tens upon tens of miles away from any semblance of civilization, except the comforts of a luxury camp. I had hoped to ride a camel deep into the desert — far beyond vistas of where I'd been. I had hoped to experience absolute solitude and desolation while in the company of my traveling Nuesta companions. Because I did not, I yearn to return. Because I did not, I know better what I seek . . .
n, still mourns those years as the happiest of his life . . . There is a silence of the noon, when the sun suspends all thought and movement. There is a false silence when the north wind has dropped, and the appearance of insects, drawn away like pollen from their inner oasis, announces the eastern storm, carrier of sand. There is a silence of intrigue, when one knows that a distant tribe is brooding. There is a silence of mystery, when the Arabs join up in their intricate cabals. There is a tense silence when the messenger is slow to return. A sharp silence when, at night, you hold your breath to listen. A melancholic silence when you remember those you love . . . And as the desert offers no tangible riches, as there is nothing to see or hear in the desert, one is compelled to acknowledge, since the inner life, far from falling asleep, is fortified, that man is first animated by invisible solicitations. Man is ruled by Spirit. In the desert I am worth what my divinities are worth."For the past two days I catch glimpses of what de Saint Exupery experienced . . . I yearn for more. My time "camping" in the desert was much too short and not nearly as remote as I would have preferred. I had hoped to feel more "out there" — tens upon tens of miles away from any semblance of civilization, except the comforts of a luxury camp. I had hoped to ride a camel deep into the desert — far beyond vistas of where I'd been. I had hoped to experience absolute solitude and desolation while in the company of my traveling Nuesta companions. Because I did not, I yearn to return. Because I did not, I know better what I seek . . .