More pictures below. This article was edited on 12/17/2008.

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Treasure the unexpected, a doctor said.

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There was nothing around for miles. The only thing we had, the only thing that pointed us towards the correct direction, were tiny red markers. Without them, we might be completely lost in the barren landscape.

Sand stretched for miles and miles. All you could see was dune after dune, of pure white dust on the ground, slowly building up and being layered by the powers of the wind. And in the far distance, mountains.

We were at White Sands National Monument. It was interestingly inside a United States missile range, and the old man at the visitor center had told us the US Department of Defense conducted frequent tests, firing missiles from one side of the range, over the park, to the other side.

In a way, I was lucky. Everything I did or encountered seemed to have a flip side to it. I was able to walk the trail because rain had gone through in the morning. It had hardened the sand and made it easier to walk on.

This morning, however, it had left me distressed and annoyed with the weather, as I stood agape in front of the window of our hotel room, watching the water stream from the roof.

Now, however, the rain had already gone past, it probably would not rain in the afternoon. Or so we hoped.

There seemed no end to the walking. We had packed plenty of water, two sandwiches, and random food, but it seemed as if this trail would never end. Each hill we passed brought another set of red markers.

My dad and I were walking on the Alkali Flat Trail. It was around 5 miles, and it ended at a flat riverbed for an old lake. I wasn’t interested too much in the riverbed, but the trail to it.

The trails went up and down, clouds looming over us as we walked. It provided a bit of comfort from the bright sun. Beautiful vistas surrounded and loomed around us. Wherever we looked, we saw constant oceans of sand.

We walked for three hours. We chatted, we talked, and we joked around. The weather was beautiful, and sometimes I would stop and make a handprint in the sand, to prove I was there. I knew the next day, the wind would blow it flat, so that my impression in the sand would never again be seen.

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As the wind started to pick up, we arrived at the riverbed. It was a giant, flat landscape with no vegetation except for one small tree, with a sign underneath it. "RIVERBED", it said. I quickly read the sign. It had some information about its history, but that was it.

I snorted.

The trail made a sharp turn, and then began making off at an angle, splitting apart from the one we had come from. As I turned around, however, I noticed it had begun to rain.

It seemed the clouds looming over us before had caught up. It seemed like they were coming back to us after all.

I guessed they were about to leave their mark on us, while bracing myself for the wind.

I was right.

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Fifteen minutes later, the wind had picked up considerably. It was bright daytime, and the rain was hailing on us, the wind knocking us. Our umbrellas strained against the wind.

I found that the umbrellas required careful holding. One slip and it would be reversed, the inside sprouting outwards. I broke a few of my umbrella struts in that fashion. It was that way that my umbrella became lop-sided.

My pants were completely soaked, and my whole body was wet, with the exception of my backpack. It was the only thing still dry, other than my head, because of the umbrella covering it up. The wind blew and blew. It wouldn’t stop.

The rain seemed to be showering down on me in a horizontal direction, and my legs were soaking wet. One umbrella just wasn’t enough…

Surprise is good, I told myself. This would have been a boring old walk. Now, it was a fight!

Was that a good thing?

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The wind stole my umbrella.

The wind blew away my umbrella.

I’ve got to get my umbrella back.

No, it’s jumped. I’ve gotta grab my umbrella. Make a run for it.

Gotcha.

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The wind at this point was becoming unbearable. My dad tried to make it more uncomfortable by letting me eat my sandwich, but it was a squishy jumble of soggy bread and pickles, and I wasn’t hungry.

I was not even holding my umbrella, because the wind was at my back in a way that if I put the rod over my shoulder, the umbrella would stay there, supported by the wind. Sometimes, my dad and I would step into a small ditch. We would feel the comfort of not having wind blown at my face.

I was tired at this point. The markers around this area were buried in the sand dunes, and only around five inches shown of the yard-length poles. The arrows vaguely pointed me in some (hopefully right) direction. I was beginning to get annoyed.

A few minutes later, I began to actually start shivering uncontrollably, and that was when my dad decided I needed my jacket on. So my dad held my umbrella at an awkward angle for me. I opened the bag. The rain was still flying into the bag, even with the umbrella.

Quickly, I grabbed my jacket and pulled it on. I was much warmer now, although a bit annoyed. If it had rained while we were on the road or in a cave or any other scenario than this, then I wouldn’t be here, freezing.

And that was when the wind stopped.

It didn’t stop suddenly, like an immediate cut, but it was a gradual change. I was standing in a ditch, and when I walked out, there was still no wind.

I whooped, and put down my umbrella. That was a mistake. It was still raining.

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It wasn’t raining. The sun was coming out, and I thought it was more beautiful than ever. It shown through clouds, making light rays through the cracks of the clouds. It was like God was shining upon the land after the flood.

It was beautiful.

A few people were standing nearby, on this small hill, admiring the beauty of the sun. From here, we could see miles of dunes, miles of the beautiful white sand, miles of the largest gypsum dune field in the world.

Blue mountains stood in the distance, and a light fog covered all that was slightly away from us.

The rain brought hardship, but it also brought us beautiful landscapes like this one. It gave one a great feeling, a feeling of happiness, of love to life, and of care to the world.

Through miracle and science, clear gypsums scratched against each other, something scientists hadn’t expect. They gave white sand particles. It was surprising, like the rain had surprised me.

And both of them had created beauty, like the rain did.

Treasure the unexpected. Treasure it indeed.

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Two hours later, we arrived back at our car, finishing the trail. The sunset was out at this point, and these photos, as well as other photos, are below: