The Atacama Desert.

Some say God has forsaken this land, but I don't think that's true. I think He has tucked it away in the corner of the Earth, saving it for Himself and for that handful of souls who know that it is precisely in places like this where God hides in all His glory among the foothills and the sand. And just who are these souls? you might ask. These are the souls who wander; these are the souls who who seek. They come here looking for something, and although many, like myself, may not have known what it was when we came, I do think that most of us find it. Now "it" is not necessarily anything in particular. In fact, if you were to ask the people here what it is that drew them here, or in some cases, what it is that keeps them here, they would probably all tell you something different. Some may tell you it's Beauty, others Freedom, others Solitude. Still, some may tell you it's Magic and others may even say it's God. Some may say it's all of these things and others may say it's none, that it's something more, something beyond everything we are capable of naming, but I don't think that is the important part.

Because regardless of the word (and of the language, for people here come from all over the planet), what matters is that we've all, in our very own way, found "it." "It" is something universal, if only by virtue of being simply undefineable. There are some things that you just can't define, and these are the things that are bigger than us. So no matter what we call it, no matter how we describe it, we are really all out here, just another grain of sand beneath the stars, contemplating the desert.