We who knew our fathers / in everything, in nothing. /
They perish. They cannot be brought back. / The secret worlds are not regenerated.
Yevgeny Yevtushenko, People

A few feet beyond, the balcony looks out over cliffs to a breathtaking view of peaks on the far side of Sahtan, so that everything, even the washing of hands post-lunch in the outdoor sink, is done against this larger than life backdrop. Sticking out like a partly-hammered nail is Qarn Dawi, a crooked finger under which a road mirrors the one we are on, snaking up the rock and disappearing over to the other side. That road makes its way over Jebel Dawi into Wadi Sim and eventually ends in Limqasil.

The gardens here are spread over two locations: beside the village and a couple of kilometres up the mountain, where another spring feeds them in Lajal. Talk of agriculture inevitably leads to the disease that is eating away at their lemons — a problem you will find as far away as Barka too. They call the disease saratan, and there seems to be nothing they know of that will make things better. It seems to be worse at lower altitudes, though — the plants here have been depleted but aren't all dead. The roots of the lemon plants were attacked by worms years ago, but that problem was solved with government-supplied chemicals.

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