|Into the shining sun.|
Above, there is pure blue sky and blinding white sun, punctuated by the odd missile. The dunes melt the structure and the mess of the world, stretching forever away in windswept symmetry. Missiles aside, I suspect this is what heaven looks like.
In this moonscape, grown-ups play like little children and children are in their element. Both are at peace - in such a world there is only the present.
I like White Sands. I like remembering that almost everything that seems to matter actually doesn't.
May the force be with you in this newborn year. Thank you for all years past.