Stark white trunks against the shimmering darkness of the sand… I’ve figured out what feels weird about this place. It’s inverted. Negative. No dark wood on white sand here. Just arching pale bones protruding from the blackness. Giant ribs of wood. The washed up dead remains of a once living forest. The leaves and animals long gone.
And odd sense of timelessness felt, mile after mile. Looking forward, looking back. No sense of distance, or a clue to our position. A fascinating environment. I can’t imagine there’s anywhere like it. Even though it’s not a jolly, or welcoming place, I loved it’s extremeness. And it’s relentlessness. You could believe you’re the only ones alive on the planet.