Relative Something

Portugal on Monday, September 27…

Once again, we woke at the usual time, just before the sun pops over the ridge that fills our view outside the window at the end of our bed.  Also, once again, I used the morning hour to write in my journal about our trip. While I was writing, Cyndie ventured out for a walk on her own. She climbed to the high point and took some pictures, then collected eucalyptus bark with a plan to make some kind of basket.

By the time I popped out of the cottage door, I found Luis was already here working on tasks associated with the wine process. He also needed to reclaim the grape squishing machine for the harvest of his grandmother’s grapes. Ian helped him load it into the Subaru and was going to drive him to deliver it. It occurred to Ian that we wouldn’t see Luis again before our departure at the end of the week, so he kindly alerted us, providing opportunity to say our goodbyes. I had brought a pocket multi-tool on the trip, one I also carried on my trek in the Himalayas. Something moved me to want to give it to Luis, as a remembrance of our visit. It seemed to me that he could put it to better use than I. Ian took a picture of Cyndie and me, arm and arm with Luis. Later, Ian pointed out that Luis had shown up this morning wearing pants with pockets on the side, similar to mine. He thinks it was in emulation of me. I guess I can live with that, but if he starts to grow his hair long, I’m going to get worried.

Stephanie and Victoria packed up and departed for their responsibilities in Porto, leaving the 3 of us to settle into our now familiar routine. Ian decided to water “the park” and I accompanied him on the task. Cyndie started to make bread, then set it out to rise and went to the stables in hopes of grooming horses, and possibly to ride. The horses didn’t seem interested, so she changed her plan and sat down there to weave eucalyptus.

Ian and I returned from watering and found Cyndie’s bread rising in the sun, while she was over in the shadow of the shade-house, weaving, as the center of attention for the horses. It created a magnificent vision, like so many others we enjoyed throughout our visit. It is hard to express how often the experiences in which we became engaged, proved to be the very picture of our dreams for this trip, and more.

One in particular involves a certain spring garden. Planting near the spring that Ian and I uncovered the week before was just what we had in mind for our next task…