Journalistic forays: Daily life. Baku, Azerbaijan

"A scene of unrelieved waste; an ocean made of powder, into which the curse of angered heaven had ground a portion of earth. Now and then, a huge rock, like shattered shafts and fallen monuments in a neglected graveyard, and big enough to be the tombstone of millions, would lift its moss-less sides above the accumulating sands. No poisonous serpent or venomous beast here await their prey, for death here has ended his work and dwells amid silence."

-- Brother Carper