Desert dawn
So in morning we headed out well before daybreak, past the refineries glowing like giant topaz crystals, into the desert to watch the sunrise.
Turning off the road between scrub bushes: small desert mice in the headlights scurrying out of the way.
On a slight rise, we stop and lay out the rug, light the charcoal stove and put the kettle on. It will only take an hour to boil! Cool stillness, high half moon, Venus alone in the night sky, a mirage of road lights swaying on the horizon.
Gradually light rises, not blue but violet grey; wind polished pebbles of white, yellow, black, translucent like sugar, evenly cover the crust of cream-coloured sand, take form and shadow.
The history of days and nights: small scurrying footprints, undulating grooves of tails, doubled hopping of birds and tentative quarrying for food or shelter.
As the moon grows brighter the sky becomes white over purple- grey in the east, the faint disc shows, grows and fills with white. Facing the sun, no warmth yet, and a wind cool on the neck. The cry of a disturbed bird, distant rumble from camels a little way off, stirring, then gliding away to graze.
Slowly the warmth flows down warming the cool sand. Strong, hot tea. We wander away singly or in groups,out and back. Silence and laughter. Eyes resting on muted colour, clear horizons, still earth, hollow perfect blue sky.
As the heat blossoms: coffee, aromatic, spice- rich, in the tent of the camel farmer. Brown, white, chocolate camels, loose- limbed, nonchalent, splayed impossibly, bird- beaked, love-filled eyes, grumble and turn to watch, or not.
Time measured by heat,
black beetle,
flash of hawk,
chatter of sparrows.
A day seamless
and silky- sweet as fresh camel milk.
