Salt workers, most of them women who harvest sea salt in coastal provinces and transport it to markets or collection points, do their hard work early in the morning. To escape the day’s heat, these women in an image I made more than ten years ago began their labors well before 4 am. In this coastal area, the wind carves like an artist into the dunes. Sculpted into rippling curves and sinuous waves by crosswinds, the women migrate across a golden carpet. Like a metaphor for the movement of salt from sea to land and from markets to kitchens and tables worldwide, the women’s garments and their hair express spontaneous suppleness, fluidity, the flow of life. In my years as a photographer, I have discovered the magic and the mightiness of wind. Wind transports everything from enormous sailing vessels to specks of pollen, and more. The absence of wind turns a lake or river bed into a bed of glass that mirrors the sky above. The abundance of wind creates drama when its ferocity is magnified, posing a threat to animals, people, plants, trees, wildlife, homes, and entire communities.