The only movement are the clouds as they silently pass by. The stillness championing the voiceless spectrum.
Nothing can be seen for miles and then suddenly a clump of trees and a smattering of horses and goats feeding on the spiky tufts of grass.
Far away on a hill, standing as a sentinel, is a ger home; the lonely herders kingdom. They are the Desert Kings; counting wealth by sheep, horse, goats and
camels. We enter the threshold of another world as we step into the
realm of the desert dwellers. The Desert dweller lives by the silence
gleaning from the voiceless prairie which speaks the wisdom of the ages.
He is a man of few words yet in his eyes is a sea of kindness.
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| The backside of the ger |
The law of hospitality extends through his vast kingdom. A cup of milk tea, a place to sit out of the burning sun, the exchange of information, a few good laughs and we are on our way. The simplicity of his circular home, which houses all of his worldly goods, can be packed up in a matter of hours and moved to the next feeding ground.
He takes us to see his herd; a panoply of horses, goats and camels. Out of the desert floor he produces water where no water is. Modern day conveniences - a pump, a rubber lengthy trough easily movable, and his animals.
He leads us to his camels - strange looking scaly-skinned mammoths snorting and screeching as the Desert King pulls the rope in his snout to let down the camels back for us foreigners to get on. Unwillingness prevails, yet as the pain in his snout continues, he yields and sits on his haunches.
Timidly we climb between the humps feeling the heat of his body.
Laughter erupts from the herders as they watch the stupid foreigners scream and gasp as the camels lift up and begin their lumbering movement into the grips of the desert. We were expecting a 2 hour ride but were led around the perimeter of the camp instead!
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| Look at the rope through his nostrils! |
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| The horses look so skinny - you can see their bones! |
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| Female herders resting while their flock are watered. |
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| The Mongolian horse is smaller yet strong and fast. |
We are enamored by the beauty of this barren land; the stillness which speaks louder than any voice could ever resound; the endless beauty of the sky - the light and shadows which color the contours of the land. I am reminded of the words in Psalm 139:7-10 - "where shall I go from Thy Spirit, or where shall I flee from Thy presence? If I ascend into heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in hell, behold, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me."
God is in this barren land and His voice speaks of His faithfulness, His omnipotence, His glory....and we are humbled by the vast magnanimity of His glorious person. And so we move on again in Him who holds the world in His Hands, allowing us to see another portion of His great creation.
