Al `Ula | العلا

Arabian winter, a star called Tantoura, Aramaic graffiti undulates with ancient testaments: I was here. Now I'm gone. Strange how this soft wind becomes sharp, shears sandstone, blasts mountains into fragments. Camel's teeth, birds' wings; iron pegs turning, secure. Supple earth, gentle fronds of palms swell and thrive. How many cities lie beneath us, here?…