Less than four miles from the historic center of Porto is the Foz do Douro, where the mouth of the Douro River meets the Atlantic Ocean.
From there, several sandy beaches stretch along the northern coast of Portugal, including Praia do Castelo do Queijo and Praia de Matosinhos, where surfers abound.
And near the rocky outcrops, the towering ruin of the 17th century Forte de São Francisco Xavier rises from the ocean, guarding the shore against abundant waves.
Guard towers, ramparts, a drawbridge and a moat—the Castelo had everything but doors.
Once again, an unsettled feeling washed over me. Having the green doors at my side all this time, anxiety crept up now that they were missing.
And yet, I felt as if the world was washed in green, like watercolors bleeding across cellulose paper, inching along stone and sand, heading towards the sea.
As if seeking the lost like the monument, Tragédia no Mar, or the statue, O Salva-Vidas.
A bright patch when all is bleak.
A splash of hope for those who live on.
Dawn B~


































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