“Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet
and the winds long to play with your hair.” —Khalil Gibran
Wind … whistling, whooshing, lashing, gusting. Wind … welcoming us upon arrival at the dock in San Carlos, lulling us to sleep, greeting us upon awakening this morning. Wind … spraying water on Zodiac rides to shore, showering sand on walks along the dunes, blasting across the bow of the ship while we gazed upon our first gray whales of the trip. Nature’s elements up close and personal. Our expedition has begun. Isla Magdalena is an exquisite example of desert meets the sea. Choppy white-capped waves lapping up to the shoreline for our morning walks. And … sand.
Sand, everywhere. Sand …mucky over-the-ankle-deep at the shoreline, dew- and rain-encrusted low-level, silky flour-fine geometric-patterned dunes. Sand … clinging between toes, nestling into pant cuffs and jacket pockets, sticking to sunscreened skin and chapsticked lips. Sand … blowing and dusting and sculpting and molding everything in its path. Sand … revealing the story of the desert through the tracks of her creatures, the shells and bones left behind, the blooming post-rain plants. Sand, constantly changing the story of the desert, covering the tracks, burying the shells and bones, dancing in the wind and creating new patterns and configurations.
Before visiting the desert I thought it would be empty and barren. But no. The desert is one of the most alive places I have ever been. Who could walk among these elements and not feel the bursting vitality—the essential creative force of life—demanding their attention?
