Tranquillity part two
الهدوء والطمأنينة
الجزء الثاني
Solemnly I reach the summit — dead quiet.
A crater-like depression on the very top of the mountain offers a natural vacuum. No winds, no sounds. Silence.
In front of me, just beyond the steel-blue Atlas peaks that line the horizon to the South, an ochre haze reveals the onset of the Sahara Desert.
Tranquillity.
Golden strands of dried grass and thistles in between the loose rocks.
A flutter.
One lonesome star shaped Aeonium plant with velvet leaves.
A flutter.
I am all alone, at the top of the Atlas.
A solitary butterfly has made its throne atop the thorny crown of a sundried thistle. It’s black and yellow zebra patterned wings flutter. Softly.
The End.