An epic scene enters my mind without warning. I find myself behind the eyes of a Bedouin shepherd as he walks across the Sinai. A cloth rests across his weathered face and I feel his warm breath, moving slowly in and out as he walks across the vast desert. There is an intoxicating rhythm to his steps and for a brief instant, I see what he sees, feel what he feels, hear what he hears.
His feet have walked this path before, much like those who came before him. The constant sound of the howling wind surrounds him like the comforting embrace of ancestors, pushing him onward. I drift with him over this ancient place.
He approaches a steep gorge and pauses at the edge, his red-patterned kufeya blowing fiercely behind him. He stands strong upon the edge and I inhabit his fierce, nomadic soul. We stand together in this moment, out in the open. Living only with what can be carried and leaving only footprints behind.