There is a certain peace that a sand storm brings, similar to the solitude of freshly fallen snow. With the sand in the air, one has no choice but to slow down. Green beaconing light fixtures posted at the ends of wooden foot bridges suddenly become relevant as you walk to your destination. "Have I passed it?" Slogging on gravel underfoot, flanked by concrete t-walls, and the constancy of the wind, reminiscent of a snow drift. The only sounds you hear are the wind punctuated by the diesel generators that dot the way.
It's hard for me to imagine what that is like without being snow--it doesn't melt. Is it shoveled and swept somewhere? Do you have special gear to cover your face and body?
ReplyDeleteThe sand isn't piled up like a snow drift. The gear is a balaclava or a tight fitting fabric cylinder that you pull over your head. I wear this with clear glasses. It's nothing you need to experience. Snow is far more delightful.
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