Word: sande
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Archaeologist Timothy Kendall was leading an expedition in northern Sudan earlier this year when one of his diggers came across a slab of intricately carved stone hidden in rubble. Soon after, another slab turned up, and then another, until there were 25 in all, laid out in the sand like an archaeological jigsaw puzzle. Fitted together, the pieces formed a dazzling tableau: golden stars set against an azure sky, with crowned vultures flying off into the distance. Flying where, precisely? Kendall, an associate curator at Boston's Museum of Fine Arts, thinks he knows. And if his hunch is correct...
That's why Kendall is particularly interested in the jigsaw tableau he has laid out on the sand. The newly discovered blocks, he believes, once made up the vaulted ceiling of a passageway that led to a temple dug into a 300-ft.-high hill known today as Jebel Barkal. It was there, Kendall thinks, that rulers in the ancient Nubian kingdom of Napata and Meroe, which dated from 900 B.C. to A.D. 350, practiced their coronation rites, climaxing in a crowning by the god Amun...
Well, unfortunately, you didn't spend this summer at the beach. Or by the pool. Or at some gorgeous vacation spot where the days are filled with sun, sand and surf. You spent the summer in the Square, working 10 hours a day, five days a week. You were a tad bitter about this situation when the summer began; it had been a tough school year, and you were ready for a break. And who would want to spend their summer in the very city in which she had gone to school? Not you. Would you ever get away from...
While Anne still has "her babies," the sand colored Birkenstock sandals she lived in while in Israel, she now wears Nike Airs. I was shocked. Nikes just don't say "hippie." She's taken to high fashion and expensive clothing. Anne even adores J. Crew. Two years ago, she would have recycled the catalogue without a second thought...
...world of casual Fridays, how's a photographer supposed to make a hard-nosed guy look footloose and fancy-free? Remove his shoes, of course. Magazine photo shoots have become like Buddhist temples: no shoes allowed. Not since Kennedy (triumphantly barefoot on the beach) defeated Nixon (wading through sand in brogans) has the naked foot been so bold. And the symbolism? The feet are now the windows of men's soles. Shoes are too pedestrian, too confining, too predictable. These fellows are so confident, they don't need footgear. All power; no loafers. Moguls can affect a Gandhi-like purity...