SPACE
Space to be Free, Gliding Like a Bird Between the Sky and the Sea
There is a word I find myself using often.
Space.
I mention it when speaking about Comporta.
I mention it when discussing homes.
I mention it when walking through cork forests, along beaches, beside rice fields, or simply sitting quietly watching the day pass.
Space.
And every so often somebody asks:
“What exactly do you mean?”
It is a fair question.
You cannot hold it.
You cannot buy it in a shop.
You cannot place it in a vase or frame it on a wall.
Yet it may be one of the most valuable things we ever experience.
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The space to breathe.
The space to think.
The space between conversations.
The space between obligations.
The space between where you are and where you need to be.
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When a young umbrella pine forest is planted, the trees often begin life only a few metres apart.
As they grow, some are removed.
Then later, more are removed.
Not because the forest is failing.
Because it is succeeding.
The stronger the trees become, the more space they require.
Eventually what remains is not crowded.
It is balanced.
Each tree has room to grow.
Room to breathe.
Room to become what it was intended to become.
I have often thought that people are not so different.
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Perhaps that is why younger buyers are often comfortable with smaller spaces close to the beach.
Everything is nearby.
Everything is happening.
Life feels wonderfully concentrated.
Yet later, many find themselves looking elsewhere.
Towards larger plots.
Towards forests.
Towards open landscapes.
Towards places where the nearest neighbour becomes a distant thought rather than a daily reality.
Not because they need more things.
But because they need more space.
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Space is a curious luxury.
The more of it we have, the less we seem to notice it.
Until it disappears.
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As children we rarely think about it.
Yet some of our happiest memories are simply memories of space.
In a park.
On a field.
Riding a bicycle as fast as you can.
Kicking a football as far as it will go.
A kite drifting across a summer sky.
Nobody described it as luxury.
Yet looking back, perhaps it was.
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Then there is the space we cannot see.
The space that carries the aroma of your mother’s cooking from the kitchen.
The scent of flowers across a garden.
The perfume of somebody you love.
The sound of waves travelling across an evening beach.
The song of a bird somewhere beyond the trees.
Invisible.
Yet essential.
Without space, none of these things could reach us.
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Scientists tell us that even the things we believe to be solid are mostly space.
The chair.
The table.
The cork oak.
You.
Me.
Everything.
An extraordinary thought.
The universe built not only from matter, but from the space between it.
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Perhaps that is why I appreciate Comporta and the Alentejo so much.
Not simply because of what is here.
But because of what is not.
The space between the houses.
The space between the villages.
The space between the trees.
The uninterrupted horizon above the Atlantic.
The dark skies that still allow the stars to appear.
The silence that occasionally arrives and reminds us that silence itself has value.
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In a world that constantly encourages us to add more, build more, schedule more, consume more, and fill every available moment, the Alentejo quietly offers an alternative.
More space.
Space to breathe.
Space to think.
Space to wander.
Space to notice.
Space to be free.
And perhaps, if only for a little while, space simply to be.
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“The older I become, the less I value what occupies a space, and the more I value the space itself.”
July 2026.
Ronald Wayne
Notes From The Coast & Real Estate
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Next – Discover why one of Alentejo’s greatest luxuries is something that can never be built.
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