From the kitchen of Omar’s house in Menorca, he and Seckou could see boats at anchor on the sea. “The music was just like that for me,” Seckou says, “something that floats, that hangs. It has a freedom kind of feel, when you float and worry less.” Omar remembers a storm, una tempestad, as he calls it. But Seckou doesn’t mention it. For him, the boats evoked thoughts of migration, forced or unforced. The boats seemed secure in their mooring, not uprooted. “Looking at the movement of the water, there’s sadness,” he says, “but it’s relaxing, the beautiful mind of it.” Omar adds “In a way, this is what we live today: it’s a sadness but with optimism and hope.” Every day, every evening, every night, the boats were there, bobbing on the sea.