Mischievous Mistress

For want of a better way of referring to the sea ... actually, it's not just the sea, it's the intricate interaction of wind, and wave, and sky and the endless movement of the spheres.
Nevertheless, this makes for fine sunsets. As the light begins to fade, David and I leave the boat and set off along the seafront, heading for the not-too-distant lighthouse.
Along our way we often pause to gaze in wonder at the huge breakers rolling in, mounting and curling and spitting spume high into the air before they crash downwards and seethe across the wet sand in complicated swirling patterns.
Time for me to try photos (there are always plenty of people armed with cameras of varying types). Though I must say, this smartphone is astonishing in what it captures. See here:

In the distance at the left is our marina, Leca da Palmeira. Today has been sunny. But this is not forecast to last. More rain tomorrow.
I grow weary of the never-ending bumping and rocking; squeak moan, creak groan, chant the mooring ropes as the surge from the Atlantic washes into the basin where the boats are tethered.
I shall be glad to be off this sea, and watch it from ashore!
Here's our yesterday sunset:

It is certainly awesome. What a wonderful place to be, here on the Atlantic coast facing westwards. What matter if the anti-cyclone over the Azores refuses to arrive (was that the story?) Rain rain go away, come again another day...
Rain rain go to Spain
And never show your face again...
I begin to understand all the songs and poems reviling the too-long presence of rain (la pluie, pioggia, chuva... we have learnt it in various other languages in the countries  we have recently visited).
Now our next-door neighbours are bringing in their yacht with much bumping and rocking so I have to stop.
A final sunset picture from Porto: