things.

 
Mira: 30km south of Aveiro, Praia da Mira, is a little fishermans village that has two lagoons and in the olden days the cabins are all made of wooden planks and straw. Home to the National Camping Park, the place is a popular holiday destination for the Portuguese and foreigners alike (but never crowded)

do you know when you re feeling sensitive sometimes the landing of a fly on your leg can be an indescribable thrill – 

DESCRI-BABEL

the waves, the pattern, by the Atlantic Ocean – nothing like the Mediterranean, such a strange little sea, brooding and waveless – what Portuguese explorers have sat here and watched the waves?
Theres a comforting quality to the waves, the dense, satin roar as it churns itself to butter

Ten days in Mira, that will be an essay and a half – 

I get on the beach for about 2 – there are a few nudes strolling about – all men, though – so i go naked for a while – stick some feathers into the pallet that is my windbreak – the sun is not too harsh and my skin takes the colour – but by 6pm the sky has clouded over and the mist and the seagulls are invading – i go over the dunes for a more sheltered spliff

Things that excite: the cool feel of the sea-mist on the sole of the foot

I spend an hour watching a beetle barrel through the sand. He is particularly fascinated by my footprints.

Things to tell ones grandchildren: 
Dont give dogs chocolate.
When walking on soft sand, keep your toes together to make it easier.

There my wisdom runs out.

The night sky makes any of this worthwhile – I lie in a sand dune and contemplate the heavens –
I d swear thats Sagittarius the bow and arrow – but the rest of the sky is a circus – clowns jugglers the Bear – the Great Bear – Ursa Major – also Plough Ladle Cart and Fox – 

There was once a world that existed on a fir tree, where the branch meets the bark –
or maybe that was just in my mind…

SATURDAY 14th JULY
hardcore, with a sleeping bag and my leather jacket as a pillow – 
the black shawl and the sleeping mat i salvaged from Om have turned out invaluable – i look like some New Age Irish fisherwoman walking along the beach with the black shawl and my greens – 
Jorge – who shows me a white berry growing on a bush that tastes like a sweet silverskin – the sand dunes provide nourishment even where everything struggles for life and whole dunes can disappear into the sea, overnight

we made love on an
Alphabet
of gnawed bones and silverskin, the
Barriers
were down at last
Coda –