“The river was very real; it held him comfortably and gave him the time at last, the leisure, to consider this month, this year, and a lifetime of years.” – Ray Bradbury
I love my new home in Porto, Portugal. I love standing in the place where the mouth of the Douro River flows into the Atlantic Ocean. I walk to the lighthouse every day to watch the dance of fresh water merging with salt water. Sometimes the dance is a graceful waltz, sometimes it’s a sensual tango, lately its moved with the frantic gyrations of a disco party.
I love how the crash of the waves washes all the thoughts out of my head. I love how the briny smell in the wind brings me back to my youth on Long Island – a place where the bay and the ocean calmed my wild heart. I love when the mist on my face feels like the flutter of angel wings. I love how the saltiness of the sea lingers on my skin and in my bones long after I’m back home.
Most of all I love that the mouth of the world opened wide, and I took the risk to flow into it.
