Stepping off the ferry from Kalundborg to Samsø Island, seagulls wheel overhead.

Samso, Denmark.

My senses quicken. I step into a car with classmates, cozied close in the back seat with other girls. We are to be housemates  for the next three weeks. Our small cabin greets us, awaiting our new stories. An evening plunge in the Kattegatt Sea restores, after travel from the States. Sky above wheels inky deep.

Morning’s light reveals a big horizon outside the cabin door. Freighters rhythmically dot the horizon,  streaming tons of cargo through eastern waters, headed for disbursement to lands beyond larger seas.

During the next 48 hours, winds urge waves toward a rocky shore, as surf curls and crashes  repeatedly. Winds blow through pines, a steady and drawn out schooooooo. Steely skies. It is cool, not yet cold.

Incessant, intense — my senses a-buzz. I  am here.

Project One explores locality, mentality and activity of Samsingers. It involves conducting interviews with select residents. It is a treasure hunt of sorts — map, bicycle, teammate assigned. Supplies on hand  include depth of curiosity and adventure.

Riding through rolling hills and farms, we meet island residents. Their rich stories unfold and illuminate like the kilometers beneath my tires and the views revealed over next hill. The plum plucked from the retired teacher’s backyard tree is savory, juices covering my fingers.

The farmer’s greenhouse smells tomato-sweet, the heat lulling senses to quiet attentiveness.

Wheels spinning once again, I head to cabin, housemates, and video preparations.

Schooooo, as I plunge and linger.

I am wind, surf, words …  I am here.