Word: barrens
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...from the south. Through the 60-mile Bolan Pass in the Brahui mountains they come, nomadic families with their camels, sheep, donkeys, the beasts of burden laden with all their possessions. They march by day and camp at sundown while the animals graze on the stony, barren soil. Many will settle around Quetta for the summer: raising sheep, taking day jobs weeding the cultivated fields in the area...
Wasteful as it may have been, his prodigality and womanizing proclivities entertain. For the latter he was notorious. Father of a dozen bastards and no legitimate children, he was never faithful to his barren wife, but always kind, angrily rejecting suggestions that he divorce her. Charles told censorious Bishop Burnet that he was convinced God would never damn a man "for allowing himself a little pleasure." A modern point of view, and an appealing one; we find it difficult to condemn the indolent hedonism of Charles II's later years, even though it seems he allowed himself more than...
...four-wheel-drive Toyota bucked and rattled over a rutted road, past a desolate landscape of brick red clay and wind-sculpted termite hills, it was hard to imagine how anyone could live in this barren wasteland. Even tough acacia trees wither and die in the unceasing glare of the Ogaden's hostile sun. Suddenly the car rumbled to a stop. "Look over there," said the guide, Mohamed Heeban, gesturing toward a clump of thornbushes along the bank of a dried-up stream. "That is Karraro, the city under the trees...
...small, bearded Canadian who writes with a certain bitter charm about the thoughtless destruction of the Far North and its native inhabitants. He has a passion for permafrost, Eskimos, whales, seals and wolves. He has lived a chapped and manly life in rural Ontario, on the Keewatin Barren Lands and in balky old boats off Newfoundland...
They came by the hundreds, picking their way down perilous mountain paths and unmapped trails that wind through the barren border country. Dressed in colored turbans and baggy trousers, the men were indistinguishable from the thousands of other Afghans who have fled into Pakistan as refugees. At night, though, in the amber glow of their charcoal braziers, the bearded faces turned as fierce as their vows of continued "holy war" to rid their homeland of the Soviet invader. "O mujahidin,"shouted a wizened tribal elder across the campfire, "even with only our curved swords, we must fight to the death...