Rule Number 1 of Birthright: Don’t fall in love in Israel.

I’ve lived my whole life in Massachusetts; not too far from the ocean and the Cape, not too far from the city, and nestled squarely in the middle of the forest where my town is.

I had never been to the desert before but once I was there I honestly felt so at peace and so at home. During the day the sun is a little harsh, but if you wear the right turban, sunglasses and half of the sunscreen your mother packed you, you’ll be fine. What really hits you—while you’re riding a camel and playing "Arabian Nights" from "Aladdin" for your coveted snap story—is the sheer vastness of the Negev. As far as the eye can see are hills and mountains and rocks of every color between red and yellow; there were points where I had to take off my sunglasses just because I wanted the full unleashed color of the desert. It’s not something I’ll soon forget, but the power of the desert is twofold: The desert at night is the perfect mirror to the desert during the day.

Instead of a bright yellow sun, we had the fullest moon shining down on us. It was so bright that it made it hard for stars to shine around it. I looked up and all I saw was a giant white circle engulfed in a sea of dark blue, and the Negev reflected the sky. The flourishing yellows and oranges and reds were replaced by light blues, dark blues and purples. Shadows grew to immense sizes and my eyes played tricks on me. I am still convinced I saw a wolf and a man on horseback riding off into the distance.

The spirit of the desert filled my lungs with probably some of the purest air I’d ever felt; lifting my soul to some ethereal plain where I felt calm and closer to a higher power. I fell in love with the desert because I felt connected to the thousand years of history is held within its soil. Centuries have passed by, but the desert has always endured and will remain a testament to nature’s unyielding to time.

There is some kind of a story out there; you don’t feel alone in the desert, you feel at ease and surrounded by something bigger than yourself. My greatest takeaway is that I have to return to see what else there is to the story.