Within five minutes from the house you can be on top of the hill looking out over the rounded peaks of a dozen other hills, and if you happen to be up there at sunset the sky is often extremely colourful. At this high point the valley appears as if in a bowl, felt most discernibly when looking at the night sky. It is an undulating landscape with eucalyptus plantations dominating one corner of Vale Fransiscos, cork oak, pine and house oak the other substantial trees. It is a very quiet place; one is most unlikely to come across another person when walking, and indeed the majority of the landscape appears entirely untouched by man – because of this even a short unadventurous walk up and down lumpy car tracks, hills all about, will leave you feeling within nature, in amongst the slow, slow growth.
To a reflective brain such as mine – ever ready and often impatient for the right external environment to allow contemplative thoughts their freedom – such a place is pure nourishment. What effect this immersion in nature may or may not have on others i cannot say for sure; but i can posit with some certainty that to the lover of nature, to the observer, to the peaceful minded, to those who relish the elements, who relish external freedom from those broad-societal constraints – to these folk this area of the Alentejo will feel very, very welcome.
When walking signs of wildlife become evident. Especially the boar, whose tusk and snout keep busy of a night turning over large patches of earth in some manner of scented vegetarian hunt. They appear to be looking for something about the roots of olive trees. A snapped stork and muddied leaf of some shrub speak of the nocturnal bound of the same beast. Some genus of buzzard is commonly seen floating on the warm air, often in twos, and a few nights before I left a large handsome toad was uncovered in the wood pile. I’ve seen one small grass snake by day, and one cat-sized black mongoosey mammal by night. I recall a couple of belligerent-looking praying mantis needed relocating to avoid my stomping work boot, and the top half of an enormously-eared minute vole was found one morning not far from the house.
And then the extraordinary pleasure of looking out upon a sky full of stars wholly absent in light pollution; in fact after staring up on the second night i shed a single hearty tear at the sheer expanse and profusion. Another night while out of house peeing in a bush i heard the grunts and snuffles of a wild boar – trying to locate it in the black night by tossing stones, it bounded off in ground thumps, sending thrills and childish fear among us. While digging for the cabin base we uncovered countless worms and found much pleasure in gently transferring them to a quieter patch of earth – humble joys in facilitating nature. And so it goes when passing ones days – mostly calm, warm and peaceful – such an environment rubs off on ones feelings.
As mentioned, during hill walks one invariably falls upon a local ruin, the feelings from which are invariably spooky and not a little sad; so many manpower hours left to slow systematic ruin. And yet (for me) there is much solace taken from facing up to similar unconquerable certainties that beshow a voracious Nature, spurred on by Time, stopping at nothing. Ruminations upon death, upon degradation, upon unavoidable physical transformation are the inevitable result (for me) of passing a quiet walk by a derelict ruin; all human endeavour is at some metaphysical level rather pointless, and yet a lifetime is a long time within which much may be achieved. Surely we must choose our interests and passions with this information in the front of the mind, and it is indeed these very thoughts borne from this very environment that have affirmed my present direction – to live simply, with nature, teaching kids, regenerating spaces.
