Formentera I imagine her as a lady with a slightly mocking smile.

Watch the tourists disembark at the port from afar, without being seen. And then it follows them, as they run around the beaches, among the stalls, in the chatter of the locals.

Someone crosses her in passing, but she is always of few words, never lets herself be too involved. An apology and he runs away.

If you really want to get to know her, you can start asking plants. They will tell you about the wind, first of all. Of their suffering. If you listen to them, they will easily lead you to her.