A Postcard from Portugal

I don’t really think of winter as fully here until after the first of the year. That’s when the Christmas lights, ribbons and gifts, and the Christmas trees finally leave the scene. That's when I notice the absence of color and scenery that’s green, cheerful, and bright. The gray sky seems to hang over the city and all around me. I'm reminded of the long days of winter still left to go before spring, now that the celebrating has past. The new year finds me yearning for the first crocus, for the yellow ball that lights the sky, and for weathercaster to quit speaking of cabin fever.

The sky is supposed to be filled with color, and so is my life.

Time to put on my headphones and take a trip to a more suitable climate.

I’ve never been to Portugal. I’m going there tonight.

I close my eyes, and here I am on the Costa Vincentina. I feel the cool sea breeze come up the shore. I wanted to come here just because I like to say "Costa Vincentina."

The golden sunlight, the depth of blue that is the water, energize my eyes. I walk the cosmopolitan beaches, watching the people. They are as beautiful as the lush scenery. Then I realize I want to be alone. The beach is too busy for my eyes.

I find small shop for food and a place where I might rent a boat for a sail. I sail across to Ria Formosa to the peaceful islands of lagoons and canals. The boat sits in the warm water. I sit in the boat for the longest while thinking of nothing. Then I lay back with some dry bread, cheese, and wine that I got at the shop near where I rented the boat.

I recall the conversation there that was in some language we made up from signals and noises. It was the only way because neither the shopkeeper nor I knew a word of the other's primay language. Yet somehow we communicated with smiles in this beautiful climate, and I got what I needed—more than enough—goods and human interaction as well.

How nice it was to lay back in the warm boat. Warm and floating without a care–how long has it been since I’ve let myself feel like that? However long it had been, I made the most of a chance to relax? I watched the sunny day turn to late afternoon and when I brought the boat back, I sat by the sea with a glass of a wine and the last of the bread and cheese. I was rewarded with a light show that a Portugese sunset can be. I rested my being inside the color. It will be hard to leave this beautiful scene.

Some people go on vacation once a year.
People like me go somewhere whenever they need to.
Some folks live here always, and don't need to go anywhere.

—me strauss Letting me be