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Arizona the four corners of the southwest are supposed to be a sacred part of the country for the native Red Indians. There is always something mysterious and mystical about a desert, the remoteness and loneliness. When the four winds blow through the desert you sense an energy, something intangible hangs in the air, echoes of Bob Marley’s “There’s a natural mystic in the air” echoes in my ears.
One is inspired and dazzled by the stark naked beauty and color of the sand. In this vast expanse only the cactus casts a crooked shadow that cools the desert sands which stretches into an endless horizon that appears surreal and ethereal in the moonlight.
It is a metaphysical space where man exists without a creator, god appears like an apparition, mirage or illusion amongst the parched sands. “None but ourselves can free our minds” like a lyrical whisper, blown by the deserts vast supply of winds resonates in my heart.
It is fascinating to watch the play of the light on these landscapes untouched by man and god. The same spot looks different during the phases of day and night.
A light wind sways the cactus and the sands seem to laugh, in the bright sunshine and as night descends, it is touched with peace and harmony. We live and we die, don’t ask why because there is no lie. This is reality, where you can taste complete abandon.- Vinay-
“And so the desert shall rejoice and blossom, as the rose sorrowful and sighing shall flee' Ishian: 35
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