To stand there and face the abyss. Where the height and the glory of the mountains dissolves into the vast empty grounds. As the mountains stand to document the history of nature they endured, sculpted and carved to mark their presence and prove their prevalence.
You shift your gaze to marvel at the ground below. Dozens of roads itched through the tough desert grounds. The physical traces of the culture and religion that you still see everyday. The thousands of pilgrims that went through these paths over the years, until their routes of travel were embraced by the landscape as an indispensable feature of it.
The sun is setting and the colors are changing, hues of red showering over the mesmerizing landscape, colors are warming but the weather is cooling. As the air around you chills your body, yet, the rocks below you maintain their heat with their unyielding warmth. Another proof of the desert’s nature to prevail against time.
Barely recognizing the small specks as people, you are overwhelmed with the realization of how infinitesimally insignificant your existence is when faced with the true glory of nature. You stand there and face the abyss, breath taken by its beauty. Photo by:
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