Leaving the Sahara my driver double checked that I had everything – passport, money, bag.  Yes, I assured him, I had all my things.  An hour later once we’d re-emerged into civilization and into this market town I stepped out of the car.  “Oh no…”
“What is it, Sara Beth? What did you forget?” he asked. 
My shoes.  I’d become so comfortable dwelling barefoot in the desert sand that I’d left my shoes there without realizing it. So there I was.  In the middle of Morocco at a donkey market, barefooted.  At least I have my camera, I thought.  And from there I proceeded to capture everything I saw.