North from Carrapateira

Photo by Eileen

Violin music floats out above the mist where the horses graze. When aloe blooms, it sends up eight-foot stalks that flower and then dry. These stalks stand wooden and stumbling, beginning to break at their bases.

The dunes we walk are fresh-sculpted, expansive but still damp. Past the waterline, the swells crest in greeting, giant waves claiming credit for the marks of their crashes.