Where the waves go, there go I. Down from the mountains like all things that flow. Seeking a breach through that opaque barricade of unpardonable high-fenced villas, then on again, a scented descent through the Mediterranean maquis down to the shore, where the hardness of the land turns to brittleness and crumbles before the surf; where the waves surge, hover, break, then fall back in an eternally repeated pause to reconsider. Here I am at peace… a transparent peace, salty, cold and sandy between the toes, posed astride the tenuous demarcation between the knowledge of the land and the mystery of the sea. Give and take. Take and give. Circeo National Park, February 2022.