A silver grey sky this morning. A walk towards the promenade showed me why. A south eastern wind had whipped up the sea, churning the grit and sand to the surface. Foaming waves breaking out of a steel grey sea, and crashing on the rocks. The smell was magnificent, that heady scent from swirling ocean. I walked to the pebble beach to hear how the pebbles would sing in this churn. They did their best to clackety click but were drowned out by the water and the wind.
I walked the 10 minutes to the other side of the peninsula and the difference was stark. A calm sea, swimmers, and people wandering the gritty beach enjoying the late summer.
Today is the birthday of the daughter of my host. I was invited for a late family lunch. We talked of Mantinades (rhyming couplets), of Odysseus, Penelope, the spirit of white mulberries and the plight of bees. I asked about the preparation of olive oil, and heard the detailed accounts, including how to prepare olives in brine and salted olives. My hosts could talk about olives for hours. Almost as long Aris had spent stoking a fire all day to roast meat on the coals. The food was delicious, tomatoes red and sweet, cucumbers juicy and crisp all at once, all dressed in their own oil, local vinegar and coarse sea salt.
I took my book to a kafeneion high on the western headland to watch the sun go down and work on poems and a song. With contemplation of wind, sea and a waxing moon, my thoughts turned to Extinction Rebellion and a new song emerged. Thank the dancing muses! Kali nichta xx