September 27, 2012 § Leave a comment
We drove all day, snaking our way from Marrakesh to Ouarzazate, down from the mountains and into the valleys, past the lush blooming almond oases, far out, driving as if to the end of the world.
Like a prehistoric landscape or a moonscape, we drove to where winds had flattened the earth, carried away all dust and debris, leaving but a dry mud cracked by the relentless sun, on which we drove
To the desert
On the crusty passageway, we came to a screeching halt at a place where the earth had opened up, a great cavernous ravine cut through the road, into which our car might have tumbled, and never found again
Taking a detour, we drove on
Until, ever so slowly, the sand began
We drove in the direction of the dunes
Until we reached Merzouga
A tiny village built by hand of terracotta clay
Barely discernable from the sea of sand
Where we stood at its shores
A Berber family invited us into their tent for a pot of strong gunpowder tea
Twarag dressed in elegant blue shawls, their inky black eyes haunted the landscape
That evening we hiked a mountain of sand for hours until we reached the summit, looked out over the dunes to Algeria.
Boarderless, seamless, endless.
Utterly open, unencumbered.
When night fell I lay down in the sand
Under the stars I felt small
Excited then terrified
“I could disappear here.”
There are things I know I should not have thrown away
My weathered Moroccan guidebook
Was the instrument on which I had played many tunes
My old companion
What compelled me to leave it on the sidewalk when it didn’t sell at the garage sale?
Now a pang of regret lingers, sharp in my chest
Why was I was so sure there would not be enough room
To hold onto all that is beloved?