116 Degrees. 116 degrees. “116 F” blinked on James’s GPS thermometer. Our skins still somehow cooled by the near coastal wind. There we stood atop “Big Daddy”, the highest dune in the area. At 325 meters we saw the red desert slowing shifting with the breeze, and as we all looked, snapping quick photos in between moments, reeling back into the sand in exhaustion, we noticed the silence. Complete Silence.
In the Hamptons we have the friendly reminder that the world is still moving, the waves crash, the woods whistle and rustle, and birds have unique songs for every hour of the day. But on top of big daddy the silence was deafening, again only broken by the sounds of a camera shutter. The only other thing we could listen to was our thoughts and memories of our past week in Namibia. The cheerful screams of the orphans who we formed bonds with at the Home of Good Hope, the subjectively gentle massage from driving on the mile long dirt roads, and sleeping under the powerful vast Milky Way that stretched across the night sky.
These memories didn’t last long, for we still had a long way to travel on our trip. The first step in continuing was barefoot, and in a full sprint down big daddy. Even for how magnificent it was no one looked back. The Road awaits…..