great post, very vivid and interesting. I connect with this on several different levels, first I often go to the desert of New Mexico, where my Dad's side of the family is from

In the desert, no one can hear you dream

living here in California(Los Angeles), I treasure my time in the desert where I can't other people's dreams.

really like the ‘dugout’ homes, it reminds me of the adobe house my great grandpa made with his hands.

How many had been escaping from other people, other lands, other lives?

Does the outback call to us in our own Dreaming? Do those wide, empty horizons beckon to something within us that yearns for the space for what may be possible?

it's not the dream that is real, its the dreaming =D