Dunes, Dust, and Dreams


Dreaming in Arabic

“Any landscape is a condition of the spirit.”

– Henri Frederic Amiel –

As far as my eyes can see, dunes ripple towards the horizon in a vast ocean of sand. A full moon hovers like an over-sized yellow light bulb at the edge. Around me, the voices of forty-nine women chatter like a flock of birds. At the start of the third, yearly Women’s Heritage Walk, covering 125 km over five days, the conversations that float into the morning chill, are fortified with eager anticipation.

It takes about three kilometres to find my walking rhythm, and for the night to flee from my limbs. By now, the burnt-orange sun has popped over the horizon behind me. Soon after, the dunes are tinged with a warm glow. A kiss of cool air lingers on my nose and cheeks, and I fill my lungs with air laced with dust particles, and…

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