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Last night, I could see it. The red, pink, orange hues filled the sky. The mountains slowly faded in the distance.
Eerie. Strange.
Unfamiliar to some. People stretched their necks and turned their heads to look up.
Curious.
“What is it?” they wondered.
Familiar to me. I closed my eyes, admired its beauty, felt its nearness.
The windows shuttered. The wind howled. The doors rattled.
In the early morning hours, I heard the quiet, faint, distant knock.
Opening the door, I saw her.
Dressed in a traditional Moroccan gown painted with red, pink, and orange dust.
She stood at the door, majestic and strong.
Traveling through the night, carried by the southern wind, across the Sahara Desert, hovering over the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean, until she reached land again.
Her journey was long, swift, and mighty.
Calima is her name, the name of this morning’s unexpected desert guest.
Unwelcome to most. Welcome to me.
Familiar to my eyes, my ears, my nose, my mouth.
“Open wide!” I told my son as he walked out the door to go to school. “You can taste her.”
Jaws gaping, head thrust upward.
“Yes, I can!” he shouted with glee. “Sand.”
My beloved land, the land of Morocco, came knocking at the front door of my house in Spain this morning.
She knows how much I miss her, how much I love her . . . still . . . after all these years.
Her colors, her feelings, her tones, everything about her, I love.
Yes, even the thick, pinkish-red sand that covered everything in my home, everyday, during all those years living in that land . . . daily dusting was my chore.
Yes, I miss even that.
Yes, I love even that.
Still.
So, today, Calima from Morocco showed up on my doorstep. She left a trail of colored powder on everything she touched—streets, mountains, trees, cars, windows, stairs, toys, grass, bicycles, flowers . . .
My hands, my feet, my hair, my clothes, now covered with her magical dust.
I greet her with a smile.
“Come in. You’re welcome in my home.”
The pink sand still fills the sky. I think you’re staying overnight again . . . before you go on your way.
The warm desert air has flooded Spain today.
Welcome, Calima! Marhaba!
Note: A sandstorm coming from the Sahara, known locally as a “calima.”
—The Cultural Story-Weaver
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