Past midnight in Wadi Rum, I was lying on the red sand with my family, looking at stars I did not know a naked eye could see. It looked like something only a professional long-exposure camera could capture, but it was just there above us. Falling stars kept cutting across the sky every few seconds or minutes. I felt blissful, euphoric, and completely mind-blown by how much had always been there, hidden by light. I realized our technological impact on our environment was quite literally impeding our vision.
I love archaeology and ruins because they make me feel small inside history. They are beauty, mystery, proof that everything ends, and a way to touch the past. Every carved stone and old city feels like a reminder that entire worlds can vanish and still leave a shape behind. I have been lucky to see some of the most stunning ruins in the world: Petra, Roman Theaters, the Bosphorus, the beautiful mosques of Istanbul, the Hagia Sophia, the Levant olive fields, the Dead Sea, and many more.
Olive fields: The olive fields I saw in the Levant were on my family's farm, next to their old swings. That memory feels different from Petra or the Bosphorus: less like a monument, more like inheritance. The olive fields felt like a reminder of my Palestinian roots, the land that my family came from, and the fact that I carry that history with me even if I have not lived there.
Kuwait nature is harsh, melancholic, but still beautiful. I grew up a few minutes from the Persian Gulf, with the beach always close. The desert was my favourite part though. It becomes so beautiful in the winter: BBQs, infinite sand, ATVing, and telescope nights looking for Jupiter and Saturn with friends and family. It also carries a story for me. Feeling the same sun Ghassan Kanafani speaks of in his book Men Under the Sun makes me reflect on my grandfather arriving to this land. As disapora I always felt so lost in this world till I found my people, but that is a constant reminder to my privilege and the fact that I am still indebted to the actions of those that came before me.
Canada gave me a whole other version of nature! My first backcountry camping trip in Muskoka with friends is still one of the most magical experiences of my life. Canoeing through Canadian nature near Quebec, hiking through forests near cottages, and lying on docks while getting absolutely rained on all gave me that same feeling: nothing between me and the world. Just completely engulfed in the vastness and beauty of it all.
Genuinely nothing makes me feel as alive. The stars in Wadi Rum, the ruins in Petra, the Kuwaiti desert at night, ATVing the dunes, canoeing through Canadian wilderness, hiking in the middle of the forest, or lying on a dock in the rain all point to the same thing. Nature forces meditation. Nature forces presentness. Nature forces humility. It is the ultimate vastness, the ultimate unknown, and the ultimate reminder that we are small and temporary. It is also the ultimate beauty, the ultimate connection to something bigger than ourselves, and the ultimate reminder that there is still wonder in the world.