If the landscape was that which reveals a presence through the gaze, the frame or the conquest. What does desert landscape front yard show us? Beyond the epic feats that the great explorers or military in their campaigns have made in the deserts of sand, ice, in the steppes or even in the seas, which have a lot of desert; beyond their personal achievements or their ecstasies. It seems that the desert does not reveal anything or, for that reason, reveals exactly nothing. The desert is never as beautiful as in the twilight of dawn or twilight.
The sense of distance is lost: a very close ripple of the sand can be a distant mountain range; each small detail can take on the importance of a capital variant of the repeated theme of desert landscape front yard. The arrival of the day promises a change, but when it has reached its fullness, the observer suspects that it is once again the same, the same day it has been living for a long time, again and again, that blinding day that time has not tarnished.
The nomad invents nomadism before that challenge, and inhabits and inhabits the desert landscape front yard and knows its presences and emerges in the foggy horizon, like a mirage, being part and at the same time owner, because it shelters desert and makes it grow. Becoming-nomadic is extending the desert, because the nomad faces what limits him and therefore is a war machine.