Kostas, The Curator...

...knowing more

of the art of the olive,

from the care of the tree,

opening the branches to the light of the sun,

conquering the κλαδί,

that bastard branch,

to harvesting the virgin,

than anyone I met,

from a to z...

*

Babbis, The Stoker...

   

...all shapes and sizes of sticks and branches,

collected and on the fire,

the smell and sound exciting,

all by The Stoker Man 

in total silence...

* 

Coffee for three...

...leaning a bit

to trunks of olive trees,

sipping coffee with friends,

to prepare for their trimming

of branches and sticks,

for light to come in,

giving fruit for next year's harvesting

of golden fluid...

* 

One hundred thousand three hundred and eighteen visits later...

...from twenty-two different countries,

can hardly believe it,

a border crossed yesterday,

and wandered through photos at random,

just took a very few that made me smile,

at the very moment of Now,

and thanks to all of you who are paying a visit

 to imprints of mine,

and mostly from the island of islands...

*

From the inside looking out...

...on a rainy day,

but rather mild,

and enjoying the warmth of a house

and coffee and silence,

waiting for brighter days,

receiving messages from friends,

equally enjoying where they are,

exchanging thoughts between us...

* 

Gifts, light and another breath...

...from my Greece up the North,

a quick jump to opened terrace doors,

gifts from wonderful friend, 

not wine but oil and olives from hard work,

landing again...

*

Promises for days to come...

 ...even if no guarantee for a tomorrow exists,

but hope is there to stay,

and my choices are there,

from shopping things I already have,

to looking into the eyes,

of an incredible child

and her power of innocence,

and the skies of light and peace,

on the island of islands,

and the choice was not hard to make...

*