Lavender-men, chrysanthemum-children, a Ferrari driver made of plastic bottles and donkeys with no tails look like creatures out of fables, but they are not: they are real people that Míriam Ramalho's attentive gaze meets, without arranging to, on her wanderings around Rio de Janeiro. It is in this drift, without a rigid route, that her practice of cycling and walking inscribes itself as an ethics of the encounter.