The sands dripped like viscous liquid around my bare feet, eradicating all but divots behind me. The steady winds caused a layer of particles like steam to swirl above the crests of the dunes. The grit in my mouth was metallic and harsh, sand drawn in on my panting breath. Each step was laborious, and only gained half the usual distance due to the shifting sands beneath me. The tawny, moving dunes were backlit by a weak autumn sun and framed in a brilliant backdrop of sapphire. Had the sun been at it's summer angle, my feet would be blistered under scorching sands. Instead, the sand was cool and pleasant as it enveloped my feet and scuffed the dry skin gently.