Sacred Louis Cardin

On my journey through the desert, I come across a group of nomads who have set up camp at a small oasis. It is already late and I join them.
I am warmly welcomed and there is sweet, strong tea around the campfire. There is a lot of talking, singing and dancing. Today is a special day.

And then I see her: no, I feel her. An older woman, wrapped in dark cloths - her face barely recognizable. Her presence is simply stunning. And she invites me to celebrate this special day with an ancient ritual, a sacred ceremony.

I follow her into her tent. Herbs are hanging everywhere, small containers with wonderfully fragrant contents in every corner. The gentle wind makes the tent fabric sway in small waves, and with the flickering flames of the campfire, all these objects cast dancing shadows on the fabric.

She motions for me to sit on a cushion and begins to brew her sacred tea. I don't recognize the ingredients, but they smell. Sweet, heavy, mysterious.
She hands me the tea and the ritual begins. I let her guide me, I trust her. I know she is protecting me.