Deep green trees, rounded like topiaries, dot the rolling, kelly-green hills in the foreground. In the far distance tall mountain peaks stand straight like soldiers saluting the valley below. They wear snow caps with pointy white fingers stretching downward meeting their army green uniforms.
Puffy, gray clouds perch low to the horizon and stare with grumpy eyes threatening to cry on the wonders below. For eons winds whipped the sand into gigantic, rippling dunes. These moving mountains kneel at the feet of the foot soldiers, captured and jailed, with no way of escape.
A queue of fifty hikers, like a line of tiny ants marching to a picnic, attempt to scale her sides. Shadow and light play across golden dunes creating a surreal ever-changing canvas of color and texture. At the base of the dunes, a lazy river flows at ankle depth with no banks to hold it deep. Children frolic. I wonder who kidnapped the dune from its mother, the sea, and hid it here for us to ponder. Such a mystery–I snapped the shot.
~ Carole Shukle
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