Steve, suspended from his paraglider in the sky, used his camera to prove the legends true. “Flying over the Aït Benhaddou Kasbah, gliding smoothly over the salt pans at Oladida’s coast, ... heading into the dunes of the Sahara desert,” Steve marveled at the sensual forms and shadows of the land. “I was immersed in a world hard to explain and define, a disorientation of scale and depth.” After pummeling his feet against the black Hamada to gain flight on a nil wind day, Steve was “lifted aloft, as the sun started to rise and color the sand of the Sahara a magnificent orange,” Steve says. “And then,” he continues, “I was flying, as if in a dream.”