60410 desert stop.

We find a fierce and subtle place along a highway leading out from the city; not really far, but ever so distant in character. At the edge of a fragmented plain, tawny sand laced with salt crystals and dotted with brine pools, we stop to take in the effects of the place: a dead lake, a jagged horizon, a date farm. After a scrambling climb, from my perch atop a shifting dune, my face to the gritty wind and dazzling sunset, I taste eternity.