Waves in Carcavelos

Boy were those waves were doing their thing today. I heard them last night  through the kitchen window here in Lombos roaring and crashing away, and that a good walk of ten or fifiteen minutes away. They were loud.



From the train window, going to Cascais this time-so it was a different show, you could feel the power in them, the sheer volume of swirling water. The shades of greeny grey in them, The hovering seabirds brought inland and dwarfed by them. The breakwaters battered by them and people on the train awed by them. The Atlantic has been a constant companion for me in my times here. Ever present, never the same- a reminder of the fact that we are shortlived guests on this planet. Especially when it does its winter thing. Like today. I can hear them now as I sit with midnight approaching and iamgine thme crashing in the dark on the sometimes calm sands of Carcavelos beach.