The painted desert

The dictionary defines a desert as any region which is uncultivated and desolate because of deficient moisture, barren soil or permanent frost. This ‘waste’ land of wind, sand and stars has spoken eloquently to writers over thousands of years. Words, conjuring up images and sounds, have pleased readers over thousands of years. In the Sinai desert Bruce Feiler recalls: "I steeled myself for the silence. But once I stepped into the open terrain, I was amazed by the din - the wind whining through the mountains, the sand tinkling against your face, the rocks crunching beneath your feet." Another writer Jim Crace, also evokes sensory images about the desert, the wild land that is never truly silent. "Earth collapses with the engineering of the ants; lizards smack the pebbles with their tails; the sun fires seeds in salvos from their pods; pigeons misconnect with dry branches; and stones, left loosely to their own devices, can find the muscle to descend the hill." Since I am incapable of such wonderful writing, I read it instead, a pleasurable substitution. But sadly, today, the desert’s sounds too often remain unheard because youth choose to be bombarded by the noises of video games, internet chat and live gossip - each as dry as the intellectual and sensory desert of their minds. Reading is no longer a welcoming oasis.