A house in a desert, very dry. Blighted land and dry sticks, no trees. An empty place. Things must grow here, things grow everywhere, but you can’t tell. It looks empty. There is a house. The details are gone. There is a house, but no features. Just a place where somebody lives. It sits in a desert, alone. The inhabitant is abstract. The house is undefined. The landscape barren.
Here the only thing we can have is belief. We must believe that the man in this desert can become something. Otherwise the scene is boring. Not even terrible or sad, but simply not worth our while – a chronically alone man with no relation to you, so you don’t think of him.
But the vision may stay, and this staying is because we must believe in the potential of this man to become something more than this. A friend, a father, he may plant a tree, he may harvest its fruit. Even if he were to smile, that would be enough.
We do not need to wait and see, but we must believe.