DESERT DAYS Each day was the same. Different. Sweeping sand dunes embraced us. We roamed, our vista sand and dunes and sky. Many had traveled here before but never did our pathways traverse their trails. Swirling sand grains danced with any breeze that offered, swiftly erasing memories. On occasion, Khalid, Ali, and I encountered vacant tent camps abandoned by their Berber residents, gone to the cities to make money for a few days or many weeks. Tree branches supporting woven wool blankets created spacious shelters. Each blanket pattern and colour differed from the next, creating a kaleidoscope of colour to contrast the sand, golden like poplar leaves in autumn. Ragged blanket corners wavered in the breeze. Deep within Erg Chebbi, the Sahara of Morocco, we sight our own Berber-blanket tent camp, snug within a narrow valley.
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