Northern Portugal

The third day at Casa do Fragão dawns perfectly clear, the lights of Pavoa do Lanhosa and Firande twinkling in the distance like candles on a layer cake. Dreams dissolve, leaving traces from night journeys. The sharp angles and softened tones of red tile roofs come into view as darkness lifts. Announcing her presence, a bird trills a morning song. The land falls away below to a small cornfield near a grove of young Eucalyptus trees. In the long afternoon light, several workers will stand side by side among the stalks with long handled hoes, weeding, careful not to damage supporting roots, moving slowly between tender leaves. No sound of cars on the morning air, no traffic lights, no busses.