The cars stop at the foot of the mountain. They will not go any further.

— Hurry up, hurry up, we are going to miss everything, — Marko hurries his friends, who are taking their packages out of the trunk and checking their phones.

During this time, they have to walk up a forest path to a steep slope. The path is narrow, for one person, so Marko, walking ahead, clears the way and at the same time makes sure that no one falls behind. He removes stones from the road, spreading branches like a theater backdrop. The air here is full of moss and ozone.

— We're here, be careful, — he warns.

The path ends, and there are only two or three meters to the slope ahead. In order not to fall into the precipice, the friends slowly, one by one, walk in a line. There is a forest behind them. There is the ocean in front of them, where the columns of hurricanes are coming from. On the horizon, still small, they will not hurt them, but it is a rare thing to see.

— Marko, are you finally in your element? — his friends ask.

— It smells like wind and grapefruit, can you smell it? The hurricanes must have been formed in Brazil, — he does not hear the question, but his friends understand that the answer is "yes".