My third night on this rooftop, wind gushing in from the ocean, canvas flapping, shadows moving through darkness, welcome to Casablanca.
The people are openly friendly, changing civilizations speaking through them. Spices and mixed aromas gently speak an eternal beauty.
But look at the hand of modern man, concrete expanding in all directions. From this rooftop perch I look out across a sea of rusting satellite dishes. I see Life in its natural beauty delivering the rust. All things pass away. Stillness speaks to the technological shroud being silently dissolved and a world still asleep to the unchangeable message.