the time i got lost in the desert

This is the story of how I got lost in the desert. The whole family was settled for a spell, drinking tea by the car, keeping an eye on the herd. So, I ask if I can go for a walk. Negotiation ensues, in which my original plan to be back in an hour is substituted for their injunction to be back before they returned to camp in 2 hours. Once this was firmly established in both Arabic and English, I set off. At some point I decide I should have a destination, and settle for a big rocky outcropping up on a nearby dune. I make my way up the dune to the ridge, always turning back to look, hyper-conscious of the need not to lose my bearings in the desert. Once I'm there I follow the rocky ridge to its end, admiring the crumbling sandstone with its bright red streaks, enjoying the solitude and the exploration, doing some real photography. Always keeping the car and the camp in sight. Eventually I meander back down the ridge and stop behind a rock to do some stretching and retie my hijab. When I resurface onto the beginning of the ridge, the car is nowhere to be seen. I kept looking and looking, sure I must be missing it right in front of me, but it truly was nowhere to be seen, and only an hour had passed. Off to my left, I spot the herd moving rapidly into the distance. I freeze, calculating. I had only three reference points: the rock, the car, and the herd. The first was non-human, the second was nowhere to be seen, and the third was vanishing into the distance. So I run after the sheep, because someone has to be with them, right? It turns out my confidence that I could easily outrun sheep was unfounded. I ran after them for about 20 minutes, leaving the ridge and any slight chance of finding the old camp behind. When I finally do catch up to the herd, no one is with them. But it's ok, because there clearly aren't wild sheep, so someone must eventually come for them. I know that if I can manage to connect with any human, they can get me back to my family. The problem is that I have absolutely no chance of finding people myself, and had already broken the cardinal rule of being lost: stay put. But I was with the sheep, which, though mobile, were the most solid and findable landmark around. All I have with me is my camera, and I cooly calculate that I can handle spending the night in the desert, even if the lack of water would become a problem the next day. So while the sheep graze I vaguely wander in the direction I'd come. They turn and start walking back, too, which is fine by me. After some mulling I definitively conclude that they're following me; while I can't shake the suspicion that there should be one, I can't find an actual problem with this. I keep walking. The wind picks up, blasting me with dust, and I face the very real threat of losing my contacts, my vision, and any chance at seeing a nearby human. Thank goodness for my hijab. Eventually I see Abu Laith coming towards me, asking if I'm good, and I decide to communicate some agitation because it's my only way of finding out what happened. He's chill, but we can't communicate well enough for me to find out what happened. Eventually he asks me something, but I don't understand the word, and after much thinking he figures out that the English equivalent is "angry." I say no, explaining that I'm scared not angry--noting the implication that they don't think I screwed up. A few hours later, thanks to Um Laith's questions and Abu Laith's reflections on English, I figure out that there was no miscommunication; when the wind picked up, they left in the car, and then Abu Laith came back for me and the sheep. It's that simple, and all is well.