Far from urban pressure

Once, I got published. In an online newletter that belongs to this blog. I don't think I ever shared. So, here.


Ain Draham, Tunisia

For hours, we have been snaking along the cliffs of an enormous mountain valley - the kind where pictures come out hazy and ambiguously green. Stubborn trees with mangled limbs and mottled bark cling to the sloping crags; delicate guardrails keep our bus from rolling into whitewashed concrete villas below. Yellow flowers and ash green grasses frame rocky patches bathed in sunlight that drips from orchard leaves and down terraced farms. From the open window, an icy breeze pushes against my eardrums. They are begging to pop against the altitude, not realizing sea level is closer to the bus stop is closer to the airport is closer to no longer on vacation. What do my ears know?