In February this year we had some strange weather in the Upper Rhine Valley. Strong winds blew sands from the Sahara, from as far away Morocco, Algeria, Mauretania and Mali all the way to Switzerland, France and the south of Germany. It happens every few years.
As interesting as the effect was, I prefer not to breathe in my sand.
How about drinking it?
A few days ago somebody posted a photo of sand in a bottle and I commented on it and now I cant find anymore. Anyway – this is the bottle that I have, a lot less artistic. I filled this bottle myself 50 years ago with sands from Le sentier des ocres de Roussilon in the Luberon. It’s an old ocher pigment quarry in the South of France which was then open to anybody and one could just collect sand. Nowadays, there are fixed walkways and taking sands is strictly forbidden (and quite rightly so).