Once camp was set up on the barren land beneath Factory Butte, it felt especially meaningful to have just read The Alchemist. I’ve read this book a few times before, and each time it opens new layers of meaning and awareness. This time, it was the desert which opened up to me.

I grew up in the desert, raised my family in the desert, and yes, as Paulo Coelho writes, “…the desert is the best teacher there is.” I’ve learned much from the desert over those decades. I’ve also experienced great loss in the desert. This time, taking an invitation from The Alchemist, I chose to go deeper, to inquire what this desert specifically had to teach me. 

Even being open to the teachings of the desert, my first thought, which I vocalized, was, “Nothing lives here. No plants. No critters. No insects. No birds.” And yet, I saw beauty as daylight set and the night sky began to light up.

“I don’t know how to find life in the desert,” the boy said. “I know that there is life here, but I don’t know where to look.”

“Life attracts life,” the alchemist answered.

Our first morning we awoke to the sensual cooing of a pair of dove. Surely, I thought, they must be lost. However, being inspired by those dove, I began considering what the desert has to teach me ::

• make the most of the dawn and early day
• it’s okay to simply Be
• sand and sun can be as crippling as mud and water
• the right amount of wind is delightful, too much is too much, to little is not enough
• listen to the language of the wind and sand
• midday rest is imperative
• the value of my shadow, I am not ready for complete exposure to the light

I was so focused on being a student of the desert, that it took time for me to notice the little white butterflies fluttering through our camp. More teachers. There was life here, and once I acknowledged them, the more they fluttered by. Life does attract life :: beautiful, pure, sweet, delicate, tenacious life.

The white butterflies were added to my list. More life was revealed. There were funny tall beetles scurrying across the desert sand and playful cawing ravens catching the air currents above me.
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The sunset was spectacular, light and shadow dancing across the wavy desert floor, moving against the walls of the Factory and other Earthen vessels standing tall around it. A dance, I believe, that has never once been the same and will never have the sameness to it. 

Later, sitting in the exquisite silence under the the illuminated night sky, Eric shared that the varying sand color was due to shards of ancient shells. Remnants from eons ago when this land was sea covered. This too is spoken about in The Alchemist, “The sea has lived on in this shell…it will never cease doing so until the desert is once again covered by water.”
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​The next morning, before the heat arrived, I decided to bum hike to the top of what appeared to me to be the back of a dragon. It’s quite enamoring to climb and crawl so close to the ground. There’s so much to see being that close up, details easily lost in the steps and strides of a biped journey. 

With each scoot higher, I noticed more shell fragments scattered amongst the sand. The early day sunlight positioned at just the right angle, causing these iridescence pieces to shimmer. The landscape looked to have been sprinkled with fine glitter.

When I reached the dragon’s back, I slid my hands into the sparkling sand and lifted a few larger shell pieces up. I asked if I could be gifted these fragments and inquired if they too were waiting for the sea’s return. 

“Yes,” the shards replied. “We rise with each rain, welcoming the water.”
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I tucked my little gifts into my pocket and sat upon the dragon’s back for a time. I listened to the language of silence as the sun kissed my skin and the wind played with my hair. I understood then that this desert is not barren at all. It was alive, and it not only welcomed me as its student, but enlivened me as well.

​all photo credit :: Eric Young