Looking down over the Great Occidental Erg of the Sahara from 37,000' above Algeria as it transitions into the Tademaït. From this distance, parts of the vast emptiness resemble the surface of the moon, the only discernible difference, it's rust red coloration. But, I think a more accurate comparison would be the sea, for nothing else in nature so resembles the desert, each unforgiving in their own way, each providing it's own perils to those who dare attempt to conquer them. The dunes are the waves of the land, constantly shifting and moving, never permanent in their shape or location. In a way, I empathize. Both the desert and the sea feel like metaphors for my own life, constantly on the move, constantly evolving and at times unforgiving, but, more than anything else, I find beauty in the emptiness, in the unrelenting nature of these things and it makes me realize that our place in this world is so much smaller than we tend to believe. Whatever that place may be, in some way I know that a time will come when our paths eventually cross and I will finally know the deeper meaning of the pull that this place holds over me. Like the patterns in the rock strata below, our life takes time to fully develop, each mark representing a struggle, a history, and finally a story. Mine's still unfolding and that's perfectly okay with me.