It thunders through Funchal, swirls through levadas and gurgles in mountain streams. To be in Madeira is to be within earshot of flowing water.

The island is built on water, within water. Of course, it’s an island. But I’m not just talking about the surf that pounds the shore. I’m talking about fresh water, and the system of irrigation canals known as levadas. The careful husbanding of water has made Madeira into a garden paradise, which hikers know from the profusion of flowers and trees they see along the trails.

But they know it also from the sound of water flowing. It is water with a presence, with a heart. It is water so clear that to look into it is to see absence itself. It is water tumbling from a cliffside or springing from a crevice in the rock. The sound of flowing water is the soundtrack of Madeira.

I will miss many things about Madeira when we leave tomorrow, but one of the things I’ll miss most is the sound of flowing water.