An Ode to Atacama

November 28, 2011 § Leave a comment

Hundreds of miles of sand, cut through by one meandering highway, the only way south.
So desolate but so enticing, the ocean balances out the desert as it appears below the hills like a smooth blue savior.
To get out of the cool comfort of the rental car, and wander into the endless horizon seems ominous, but perfect.
A sort of liberation, the continued story of a traveler’s life that can only truly end with no certain end.
Off the road six locals toil in the heat of the afternoon on a makeshift soccer pitch.
Their calloused bare feet and leather tanned skin are born of this land.
Shaking their hands is like touching the earth.
Their lunarscape home seems perfect, as we most certainly appear as spacemen in our shiny car and new clothes.
Happily they smile and include us in their game.  Our shoes and socks are no match for their feet, and they race by us with ease.
Exhausted by the sun, we don’t last long.  As we turn to leave they smile again, and go back to their game.
We aren’t as interesting as we’d like to think.  That is a comforting thought.


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