The sunlight still brightened the beach sand to a brilliant white, even if it was the last weekend of September. For many hours during those three days, I sat on the cool sand watching the little swirls of water rolling in, perhaps all the way from German shores. 
We were just seven women on this private weekend retreat, of many ages and cultures. The old white-washed farmhouse on the countryside of Møn island filled with moments of laughter, moments of silence, and the scent of delicious vegetarian food. Mornings were for yoga and reflection, afternoons for silent meditation and skinny dipping, and evenings for dining, sauna, and sharing.
It was as if the unusually long Danish summer ended that Sunday, when we locked the doors and began the drive back up South.
(Island of Møn, Denmark; September 2019)
Perseverance does bring tiny improvements, which I notice because my yoga practice is the exact same sequence every single time. Last spring, after 5.5 years of practice, I got my hand down in revolved side angle pose, with my back heel down. And since this past fall I am able to get my feet and my raddled knees safely in some kind of lotus pose for a short while.
Wakeup at 4.15 am in Denmark, nine hours of nonstop meetings in six languages, and on the way to the hotel the Swedish taxi driver was playing Finnish schlager artist Pate Mustajärvi at maximum volume (?!). It has been a looooong day, and it ain’t over yet.
Deep in Galicia, the river Sil squiggles through a canyon with walls up to 500 meters high. Somehow the Roman settlers discovered that the steep canyon walls produced excellent wine, as long as one had the energy and perseverance to maintain the vine plants required. 
It seems that not only winemakers liked the Cañon del Sil, as there are a number of hermitage monasteries scattered along both riverbanks. 
Oaks, chestnuts, ferns, and even Galician pine make the Sil river canyon lush surroundings for hiking – as long as one can keep up with the changes in altitude.
Along the cliff edge there is also a viewpoint curiously named Balcones de Madrid, even if one cannot see Madrid from it. With a little help from Google I pulled up stories about women choosing the viewpoint to see off their trader husbands traveling to Madrid: they had to climb down the canyon on one side, cross the river by boat, and climb up on the other side. Although whether it were the women or the men who built the laid rock walls still remains a mystery to me.
(Galicia, Spain; September 2019)
In the middle of the forest lies yet another over thousand years old monastery. Galicia is practically 
(Galicia, Spain; September 2019)
This blue marble 