I walk lost in the desert and find myself in the middle of a sandstorm. There are times when the wind dies down and I can make out silhouettes of unknown architectures, of strange vehicles and other people who I imagine are looking for a way out, or maybe, like me, just a direct form of contact with nature and an unusual landscape. Night falls. I hear music and let myself be drawn into it. Suddenly I can make out a multitude of lights and colors that light up what seems to be a ghost town far away. I get closer and notice that down its streets walk people with unusual clothing, as though they were in costume, while others are naked. Right away I have a strange sensation, as though I were on another planet. So I ask the first person who passes where I am, and with a smile he responds, “Welcome to Black Rock City, the city only a few people know.” Then he hugs me tight and right then I realize I’m not dreaming and that I’m where I’ve wanted to be for so long: at Burning Man.