I have been absent for a few weeks. I took a break to venture into the desert. A real desert with sand dunes and all. Smoky camp fires, starry night sky and random towns. Strangers who had no idea who I was, where I came from or any of my baggage.
Sunset walks into the dunes and surrounding canyons.
The silence was stunning.
No cars passing by, no voices, not even the sound of wind.
It felt wrong at first. Almost as if I was in an artificial reality that was too perfect that it did not feel real.
The point hit home that I had been filling every waking moment keeping myself occupied with something to do, someone to see, or just vegetating watching TV. And I was doing so to run away from what I am feeling which is not the healthiest approach. The desert experience was reflective and insightful. Romantic and wistful.
I saw a girl on the dunes, taking pictures.
She blushed and busied herself with her camera.
She walked one way.
I walked the other way.
I looked backed and caught her looking back.
I sat on the sand to watch the sunset. And it felt good to think of nothing.
To just sit there and enjoy the red-orange hues against the blue sky.
To feel the temperature gradually falling.
To feel the cool sand as I dug my hands and feet in.