So, as I sit out on the balcony on Mykonos, the only place Wi-Fi picks up, nearly 250 feet above the Mediterranean, with rising crags on both sides wrapping around the bay, zodiac-filled skies above me, a salt-water pool on the descent to the sea and those unmistakable white concrete houses with blue roofs filling all views, I can't help but smile. Yes, I'm blogging from a corner of the world, from a moment of beauty, from a smile. I just had a dinner of fish, literally, straight from the sea. I have a gentle breeze to soothe the marks of the scorching sun. A little lizard climbs the wall next to me and is gone.
Serenity, peace and sheer joy. I have a hard day of sunbathing, eating fresh food that hasn't been chemically treated, and swimming tomorrow. I might even lift, if I feel like my pecs need some definition.
I'd think I was just bragging, if I weren't saying it to invite you, on behalf of my heritage, to Greece, a truly remarkable place, which while it has an IKEA near the airport, has escaped a good number of corporate evils. And maintained a remarkable amount of beauty. Mykonos, one of the most traveled to tourist islands, still is barely navigable by automobile. Five star hotels are off an unmarked back road. And there's one ferry in the distance, an airplane landed a little while ago, but over it all, I really can only hear the whispers of the Aegean, telling the shore how enthralled it is, how much it loves it. And their symbiosis continues much to our benefit. Perhaps if we tried to be more of a part of that symbiosis rather than inserting ourselves into it for whatever we found convenient, we might find more of this beauty unspoiled.
Next time, I'll let you know how nice it feels to take a vacation after almost two years. It really has been too long.
G'night folks.