Look westward over the desert and see, against the sky, on the edge of the world, far mountains climbing; broken, jagged teeth outlined against the icy vault of Heaven. Antarctic winds blow uninterrupted, straight from the heart of the immortal glaciers that cover the bottom of the world.

Empty land, stark and lonely, spread out in the harsh sun; silent, cruel and aching for water, the desert washes against the shores of those sentinel mountains. Thirst stalks the land, death following after. Life needs water. The desert bathes in the sun. Life, thirsty for water, withers and turns to dust.