#portugalemperspectiva 330.891K Posts

polaroid series #3: July 3rd, somewhere in portugal. i honestly don’t remember much of this day as a whole. but this memory burns strongly in my mind. it was just a quick stop to see the view then hop back in the car with my family and continue our day. we pulled up and saw a big blue vast of beauty. i felt so insignificant compared to this entire ocean that was in front of me but i was in awe. my family and i ended up hopping in the water just to say we dipped our feet in the atlantic ocean. a quick pit stopped turned into an amazing memory. if you’ve never been to an ocean, i suggest you do that at least once in your life. the calm sound of the water pulling in and out of the shore was so calming. standing on top of the rocks feeling like you’re on top of the world. it was blissful. this next part always makes me tear up. my mom found little clams, in portuguese called lapas, stuck to the rocks. she told me when she was young her and her dad would pull them off the rocks and eat them straight from the ocean. so we did exactly that. they were so tiny you could barely taste anything other than salt. i can’t say i enjoyed it but i looked up to the sky and smiled because i knew my grandfather was looking down at us smiling because we did that. i did that for him. the next thing i know i look over at my mom standing just staring out into the blue infinity and she’s crying a little. i asked what’s wrong and she said the ocean was just so utterly beautiful. it would truly make anyone speechless. not too often do people cry because something is so beautiful but to just let go and honestly be one with the cool water beneath you and breathe in the ocean air. i guarantee it’ll make you tear up, just a little at least. i’ll always keep this little hidden gem of a spot close to me. wow this was a long one but again thank you to those who read all this!!
Nunca pediu muito da vida mas tinha um objetivo: escrever o poema perfeito. E todos os dias procurava inspiração para isso. Nos rostos, nas ruas, no escuro e, principalmente, na natureza. Já com o avançar da idade e depois de milhares de tentativas falhadas decidiu arriscar tudo. Marcou no mapa os locais a visitar, meteu a mochila às costas, guardou o caderno no bolso e partiu em busca daquela imagem que lhe cortaria a respiração e traria consigo as palavras mágicas. Percorreu todos os lugares marcados e mais alguns, mas passados dois anos o caderno continuava em branco. Triste e sem dinheiro telefonou à única pessoa que ainda acreditava na sua busca a dizer que iria voltar. Quando chegou ela lá estava, à sua espera, de braços abertos e com o sorriso de sempre. Quando o viu correu na sua direcção e abraçou-o com força. Ele sentiu uma lágrima escorrer-lhe pelo rosto, depois pelas costas dela, e por fim a misturar-se com tudo aquilo que um chão de aeroporto carrega. Viu, finalmente, o poema perfeito sair de dentro de si. Sem usar uma única palavra.