To Climb Masada at Dawn
The light from our Bedouin guide’s fire is burning low and I can hear the gurgling sound of his hookah in the darkness. My friend and I have long since abandoned our tent to sleep under the stars, and as a three quarter moon sags heavily in the west, there is very little between us and the Milky Way, smeared across the heavens. The wind whistles softly, luffing the edges of the tarp over the campsite…..here, somewhere in the middle of the Judean Desert, I wait to climb Masada at dawn.
