In the heat of the day she often remained in the Kasbah of her Father weaving her many intricate wall and floor mats.

In the evening when the sun sank the hills, the dust and sky, would become red in a hundred shades, and,

as the light fades, these reds would become gradually transformed into a thousand glowing tones of gold,

which, with the final fading of the light in the west, yield to a world of luminous, then dusky, blues and purples.

Then, it seems suddenly, the sky is black and wide and high and is rich with the reflected sands of stars,

like clear bright diamonds burning in the soft, sable silence of the desert's innocent quietude.