So many people have tried to write about the desert and failed. It's vast emptiness is hard to put on paper, er, on screen. Distances stretch out upon immeasurable distances. Sand and gravel and red rock mountains, an infinity of permutations. It's like "Hey, have I been here before? This looks familiar," for hundreds of miles. Until you notice a bird's nest disguised as just another part of a bush. You squint and let your eyes adjust in the sun. Hmmm. . .that branch seems to be thicker, and darker green.

 

In the desert you never actually see water, just where it has been. Dry sand rivers, currents of pebbles. Little carved out ravines in the dust.

 

The branch is definitely a darker shade of green, and as you move closer, bits of red poke out from the green. You haven't seen a bird in six days- but here is a three foot long birds nest made of live branches covered in juicy red berries. The thorns of the bush protect the nest from would be predators. And unless you're really looking, you could harldy spot it either.