Driving from Las Cruces to Marfa, we spent the afternoon exploring what felt like another planet — a pocket of land equipped with sand dunes and moody skies named White Sands National Monument. Wandering around, some sections reminded us of the parking lots in an unnamed ski field, some of the east coast beaches in New Zealand. One section in particular, felt like we walked straight into a painting. The creamy-white dunes undulated towards the horizon, as far as we could see, our eyes squinting from the relentless amount of light bouncing around. Wind swept and with their uniform ridge lines, the dunes became speckled with footprints as the day went on. This landscape transported us somewhat, it slowed us down, we talked less, we took off our shoes, we felt energised. We stayed longer than we imagined, too, resulting in a pitch black night-drive through the outskirts of Marfa — a scene that only the desert can achieve. We caught glimpses of wild rabbits while our thoughts rolled amongst those squeaky, flour-soft hills.