Tien Zen
In the wilderness, the Sirocco can be punishing to the pilgrim. I tried to level myself with the sand, waiting for the storm to pass. A storm of such fierce and unforgiving intensity that I could feel my skin being peeled away by the sand which had become like shards of glass blown by the parched harmattan. As I looked about I could see a small group of scrub trees and a small yurt. The Bactrian camels, the 'Ships of the Desert" were lying in front, their backs to the wind. I made my way
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