A Tissue Full of Desert Sand

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It was pouring rain and the wind blew the water sideways, the puddles dancing as though they contained invisible little dervishes. It was impossible to see out the taxi window so I kept lowering it and sticking my head out to take in as much as possible before leaving this magical place. There was little time and I had gone through so much to get here.

I kept telling myself that it was better than nothing, but was it? I had looked so forward to seeing this land that when stormy seas decided it was impossible, I actually felt like going home. The trip was over for me.

My friend and I, with two strangers, found a taxi driver who would show us what he could. He was a kind man who spoke no English. At one point he stopped the car so that we could gaze at a rainbow. The rainbow lied, weather only got worse.

It was time to leave if we were to make it back to the ship before it sailed. Through the rain and mist I saw something white... an image of a perfect white horse.

It wasn't just the horse or location that affected me; it was as if he was looking right into my eyes and saying, "Come, I will show you all of Patagonia."

I held my camera out the window and pushed the button.