Back into the lands of forgotten time

Today (after coffee, of course!)

we walked from the village of Souda

- a place surrounded by mountains -

up a dried-up river bed which is part

of the European footpaths network

and up to a high plain, where we found

this ancient tree.

and then on to the next valley overlooking

the ancient ruins of Lessos.

The rains of the past few days

have brought out the mountain flowers -

they are amazing!

 

.. nestled in crevices and spreading colour everywhere.

We returned to Souda for lunch

just avoiding the next downpour!

With all the sun interspersed with rain

there were rainbows everywhere.

 

Rainbows have a habit of telling me where "home" is to be

Was this a sign?

Blessings

John

PS Yes, lunch!

 

Singing to the pilgrims

Some of you may have walked long pilgrim distances

along tracks to sites like Compostela de Santiago.

Journeys of the soul which can give unexpected gifts.

Late this afternoon, three of us decided to walk

up the mountain, past two minute churches

and visit the cave of the Holy Fathers.

We're talking 3 km here, not

hundreds and hundreds of miles.

We didn't take the map (which also serves

as a menu at the local Alpha-Kafenion!)

since we felt we knew the way.

Oh, how we were misguided!

The further from home we got,

the less certain we were of where we were

despite the rather rusty signposts

to the cave we were seeking,

seeming to point to at least

2 different directions at once!

Finally at one point where the signpost could be seen as

pointing anywhere from straight on to straight up (to Heaven?)

I asked my inner voice "Where now?"

"Straight on!" it said, and so "on" we walked.
Very doubtfully - we were supposed to be going
up and here we were going decidedly down!

A local man was walking towards us, walking stick in hand.

We understood he was asking us where we were going.

"Caves?" "Yes!" we said, and he walked with us

back from where we had come, and then

walked with us up the track where the signpost

really pointed. I wondered,

"Why did my voice say Straight on!?"

I caught a few words - "It's late in the afternoon!"

and then after a while he stopped and pointed

his stick at the winding path we should now follow -

a kind of labyrinth up the mountain-side

through gorse and wild flowers and

multi-coloured bits of stone and rock.

We thanked him and he was about to go -

I was still holding his hand -

when he began to sing a pilgrim song.

I felt tears welling up inside as the music

of hundreds of years of orthodox tradition

were sung to me face to face from this old man.

(I learned later that he is the local "kantor."

Now I understood why we were sent

straight on!)

We never quite made it to the caves.

We were too late in the afternoon,

and there were too many newly-erected fences

to keep the sheep and goats out.

(Were we the sheep and goats?)

We would have been walking long past

nightfall.

But the man's song has stayed with me,

filling my bones with music passed down

from age to age and now sung to me.

We arrived back in the village

and the cafe was full of people celebrating.

Ouzo has seldom tasted so good!

Blessings

John

The view over the Lybian Sea

I admit it.

There are many days to tell stories about...

and I haven't written them here, yet...

yes, they are half-written, and

yes, they'll be here in a few days' time.

But to show the beauty now, here's a view

from where I'm sitting, drinking mountain tea

and listening to birdsong, goats and dogs...

A bright blue sky, 20 degrees (C!) or so

and a sense of wonderful peace.

And now it's time to go down the windy road

and do some shopping - groceries and things...

(and maybe watch the gang playing beach volleyball)

And when the practical is done,

then come the reflections...

I'll keep you posted!

John

PS Lunch!

 

There were the trucks with the food and the landing staff....

... but where was the plane?

.....note the bits of wheels on the tarmac!

My mother taught me to arrive extra early
when the occasion was extra important.

I thought catching the plane was extra important,
and anyway the winds were cold in Montreal,
so I caught an earlier train to Dorval,
(where one gets the air connect bus)
and found myself unexpectedly in a short but deep conversation
with a fellow traveller who was going to witness
a member of his family doing a Vision Quest.
It was something new for him,
and he was open and really excited.
We had shared a little about
what happens when a very controlling society
breaks down and people rebel against the
spiritual and religious paradigms which
have held the old society together -
how the spiritual depth can so easily
be thrown out with
the conservatively religious bathwater!
He was so obviously saddened by
the lack of ensuing depth in life!
It was refreshing to talk about deep spirituality
with a total stranger.

At the airport, we bid each other blessed journeys.
I was very early. I was through the gate
in a matter of minutes - no line-up, no queue at all!
They had written at least 3 hours early
on the e-ticket - I was four-and-a-half!
I didn't hurry, but eventually found a corner
to watch the gate and see the plane arrive and dock.

It seemed like an eternity as I sat there.
After a long while, others slowly joined me.
I hadn't looked at the time  but it seemed late.
Looking round I saw I was surrounded by passengers
waiting in the waiting space, but no plane came.

Airport trucks arrived, the baggage came,
waiting for the other passengers to arrive
but no plane.

And we are still here, still waiting...


This journey is obviously very very important.
I wonder why!

John

The signpost ....

......says it all!

And here, in Nova Scotia,

somehow we have managed to manifest snow tonight!

Just before the morning of leaving ......

Snowflakes are so fascinating ....

especially from behind the window

of a train.

Or high up in the mountains

above the olive groves,

far, far away.

Who knows what the night will bring?

Perhaps it will be like Ireland.

Watering the night away.

J