A barren landscape- cracked- sat untouched under a simmering sun. Honeycomb fractures lay outstretched, as far as the eye could see; giving home to the dust that had settled throughout the years. You would be forgiven in thinking that the scene wasn’t suited for anything other than just being. There were no landmarks, no wildlife- not a single cell that would indicate anything else. At times, a breeze wound its tongue through the cracked porcelain grooves as a high-pitched whistle emitted. Smoothly, it wove around the crevices; gently caressing them. As time wore on, the breezes turned into gusts, the gusts into squalls and the squalls into storms- until almighty rumbles began to shake the land- shuddering it at its core. Days turned to nights and nights to days as the unrelenting winds battered the exposed terrain senseless. The days of the desolate scene appeared to be numbered. Surely such a wasteland could not survive such brutality? But it remained steadfast- unwavering in its strength. Torn apart, it stood. Cracked, it stood. Dilapidated and disfigured- it stood- despite the harsh conditions that threatened to destroy it at every moment. In time, the storms began to subside- exhausted by their own attack. Little by little, the clouds of dust that had billowed so sharply, settled. A stillness permeated the air as the landscape readjusted itself. A deafening silence echoed. To outside eyes, it really didn’t appear that it had changed at all. It still looked the same, felt the same...even smelled the same. But appearances can be deceptive. Throughout the tumultuous seasons, the desert had learned a great deal. It had learned resilience to external forces, courage and most importantly, it had learned to survive- safe in the knowledge that one day, tranquillity would be restored.