The arse blip

Atacama desert, my fluffy bottom...
After two days in the desert without seeing another soul, or a bird, or an insect, or a plant, or a moss, or a lichen, or a Jehovah witness*, I realised that there wasn't much point in wearing clothes, as I am quite comfortable with my own nudity.
I would not feel all that comfortable on a nudist beach. But I was alone. And I loved it.
The camera was on self timer and resting on the bonnet of the camioneta. A brave vehicle that thankfully started every morning when I turned the key.