Camels

Outside of the city the roads are surrounded by desert; it is a merciless landscape. As far as the eye can see sand, rubble, and stone surround the road. Occasionally an oasis of trees pops up from behind a stone fortress; a Qatari farm perhaps. Or, less likely, a weekend home built as an escape from the urban sprawl of Doha. After all, it would never take more than an hour to get to any border, Saudi or the sea, from Doha. I often see camels off in the distance grazing along the horizon. It is quite a sight to see a herd ambling along on a small knoll against the desert horizon. Their silhouettes moving slowly along the sky like Bedouin whom occupied the same acres for hundreds, thousands of years. They seem aimless, but the desert knows their purpose and it is because of the desert that they survive. Sometimes they cross the road right at the point when I arrive. I slow down, hoping not to alarm them as they saunter by and surrounded me. At the sound of my engine, one or two, often one of the little ones, might become frightened and their saunter is kick started into a lopping, nearly directionless run. I worry when this happens as they are apt to get very close to me and I hope they don’t run over me, or spit on me out of fear. But, that has never happened. Mostly they get their bearings, the herd passes to the other side of the desert, and I am on my way.