Oh wouldn’t it be dreamy nice if these ancient terrasses refilled; if not with vines (take so much time, work and money to grow), why not instead with Johanes Perforata?
One thing I know well: where I work they’d drink it by the gallons; they’d have it in samovars, one in every room and all around the place.
Then the economy of Ikaria …
… but again, isn’t it perhaps wiser that it stays as it is now : just a few vegetable gardens and the rest covered with white daisies? Who am I to advise on «island economics»? I am critisizing and blaming me for my weakness. I find me guilty of ‘imperialism’. But I won’t send me to the firing squad. The gods will intervene and say: «Let her go; she doesn’t mean to rule the island and change its ways. It’s just that it’s blooming spring and she is feeling lonely; there are so few people around her age there now to share this beauty, the acts and the ideas that go with this wealth. Let her go. This week she will only listen music by Chopin, next week it will be Schubert and the last week before Easter she will listen Bach’s Passion«.
I shake hands with me and I go free again. I have all those CDs. This has happened before, so I know and have taken my measures.
Ah, viniculture ! After the next episode of «The Story of Life», I challenge you: make an attempt to ‘see’ how it could be revived. Use the medieval parable of the dying vinegrower, his reluctant sons and the alleged treasure in the vineyard to help you start. ‘See’ a new set up, invent a new motivation. Or everybody in Greece will be public clerks on 400 euros a month.
Tuesday March 28, 2006 – 10:44pm (EEST)
- Jimmy P
Spring make me happy and fool. How can you be sad when the sun shines and the perforata blossoms?
living everyday in a «concrete jungle» I really wonder how can you only think to any antidepressive, there on the island perforata.
I know, even heaven is boring.
Tuesday March 28, 2006 – 11:27pm (CEST)
Yes, ‘see’ grapes growing Elle. The terraces were made for vines, were they not? And spring blossoms to make people happy fools!
Tuesday March 28, 2006 – 09:07pm (PST)
so, it’s 2-2 for spring blues. If the one of the two who don’t understand, (let’s say, Jimmy -lol) was Adam in Paradise, God wouldn’t have created Eve. Then again if Eve didn’t understand too much, there wouldn’t be all that mess afterwards.
-> oh, the grapes… I’ll see what I’ll ‘see’.
(how much does a finacial advisor make, btw?)
Wednesday March 29, 2006 – 09:53am (PST)
Cheer up Sister, if you are sad, I am too.
The Tuft of Flowers
I went to turn the grass once after one
Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.
The dew was gone that made his blade so keen
Before I came to view the levelled scene.
I looked for him behind an isle of trees;
I listened for his whetstone on the breeze.
But he had gone his way, the grass all mown,
And I must be, as he had been,–alone,
`As all must be,’ I said within my heart,
`Whether they work together or apart.’
But as I said it, swift there passed me by
On noiseless wing a ‘wildered butterfly,
Seeking with memories grown dim o’er night
Some resting flower of yesterday’s delight.
And once I marked his flight go round and round,
As where some flower lay withering on the ground.
And then he flew as far as eye could see,
And then on tremulous wing came back to me.
I thought of questions that have no reply,
And would have turned to toss the grass to dry;
But he turned first, and led my eye to look
At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook,
A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared
Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared.
I left my place to know them by their name,
Finding them butterfly weed when I came.
The mower in the dew had loved them thus,
By leaving them to flourish, not for us,
Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him.
But from sheer morning gladness at the brim.
The butterfly and I had lit upon,
Nevertheless, a message from the dawn,
That made me hear the wakening birds around,
And hear his long scythe whispering to the ground,
And feel a spirit kindred to my own;
So that henceforth I worked no more alone;
But glad with him, I worked as with his aid,
And weary, sought at noon with him the shade;
And dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech
With one whose thought I had not hoped to reach.
`Men work together,’ I told him from the heart,
`Whether they work together or apart.’
Wednesday March 29, 2006 – 11:10am (PST)
of my taste, of my heart (and the rythm which sounds and beats like a song) –thank you –thank you
(btw do you type or copy-paste; hope it’s the second; if the first, ah ah, very very obliged…)
Wednesday March 29, 2006 – 12:22pm (PST)
- Jimmy P
What a sad world if the both Adam and Eve were sad! So let Adam be sad and Eve be happy, or Adam be happy (let’s say Jimmy) and Eve be sad. This is the secret of love (and happiness), no matter if you’re in heven or hell.
grapes and happiness everywhere in every season
Thursday March 30, 2006 – 12:32am (CEST)
veuillez excusez my cyclothymic girlfriend; her psyche swirls on a spiral course.
-good poem that – thank you ‘face carved on stone’ for sharing
Thursday March 30, 2006 – 11:22am (EEST)
Elle, this one was cut and pasted for sure and yes, isn’t it lyrical?
Nana, notice that the face in stone, he’s winking 😉
Thursday March 30, 2006 – 07:58am (PST)
I indorse. My father’s was a historian. Do you know what was his hobby? He climbed mountains and collected wild herbs !
Sunday March 19, 2006 – 02:54pm (EET)
You coloured my photo with blue shade? It looks a bit sad.
We weren’t sad on that day. Anyway, «it’s your blog and … » (how is that old song about the party going?)
Nature, History, everything is Machines… hehehe
Monday March 20, 2006 – 11:45am (EET)
my dear Nana, there are times that I feel the mechanical urge to kill you. The only reason I don’t do it is because I know that you are not a machine or if perhaps if you are, I don’t know the mechanic who would be able to repair you.
(«it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to»)
Monday March 20, 2006 – 02:59am (PST)
2006-2009 – Ελένη είσαι ένας θρύλος!
Sunday March 22, 2009 – 01:41pm (EET)
Sunday March 22, 2009 – 10:51am (PDT)
Sometimes there is fright in nature. Evil spirits, they say, come out of their holes at midnight as well as at noon. This is a rare capture of myself in apprehension. Fortunately it didn’t last long. The sudden burden on my chest went away as soon as I whispered my Ikarian grandmother’s name.
Taken in Chalares canyon, Ikaria 2003
Copyright © Eleni Ikanou
Yes, Erietta, I have but it was never as strong. It was about the part of a personal story I didn’t dare blogwrite because it was too frightening, but for a very short moment. A kind of Steven King experience 😦 😮
Monday March 13, 2006 – 03:07am (PST)
Deep contact with pire nature can be bewildering. My mother told me a quick prayer. But the secret is to keep your mind focused on the ones you love.
Discarding everything, WOW! this is a very beautiful picture! ⭐ ⭐
Monday March 13, 2006 – 10:20pm (EET)
‘Στη στεριά δεν ζει το ψάρι
ούτε ο ανθός στην αμμουδιά,
κι οι Σουλιώτισσες δεν ζούνε
δίχως την ελευθεριά.’
This is from ‘The Dance of Zalogo’, one of my best favourites in Greek folk verse and music.The words say : «a fish can’t live on the land, neither can a flower live on sand, neither can the women of Souli live without freedom.»
(After a battle was lost, the women of Souli ran to the brow of a cliff where they sang and danced this merry-go-round ‘syrtos’ . As they danced, one after the other jumped over the cliff and got killed . The women of Souli were something else -believe me.)
I started like this because I wanted to connect this entry with ‘contradictions’, remember? Because in Greece there is a flower (ανθός =a real flower with a nice smell and pretty looks) which lives on sand. It’s name is Thalassokrinos (=the lilly of the sea, θάλασσα). I first saw it on Livadi beach, near Armenistis about 12 years ago. There are some dwarf cedar trees there (juniperus?) and people often camp under them in the summer. Then they go away and they leave many ordinary or extraordinary items half-buried in the sand. So when that smell struck my nose I thought it was from a bottle of sun-cream and my first thought was to find the make because I had never smelled anything like it before and I liked it very much. I expected to find some exotic (e.g. American, Australian) brand. But there was nothing like it in the deserted camping site under the cedar tree -only sand and several cigarette butts. The smell was stronger then so I squated and searched with my hands in the sand. Among cigarette butts and odd debris I touched several hard protrusions. They were whitish beige -about the same colour as the sand, and at first I thought they were small peebles or seashells. But they were soft under my touch and of course they smelt divine! I was wirling round the tree like a mad dog then and I went to the other side of it which campers do not use because there are many spurges there. Among them I saw my first fully grown Sea Lilly, a flower I believed it was mythical. Much humbler and modest than the ones depicted in the Minoan frescoes (one called, if I’m not mistaken, Η Κυρία με τα Κρίνα, The Lady with the Lillies) but as proud and princely in odor.
I had discovered a ‘habitat‘.
I came back after a few days and had the luck to see the whole colony in bloom. It was a very windy day though so there was no smell. I didn’t squat nor did I came back on another day, because I didn’t want to attract public attention. I only spoke about my discovery to the woman who owns ‘Atsahas’ taverna (that’s on the side of the hill on the eastern side of the beach). She is an amateur in plants and she knows Livadi beach like the palm of her hand, but she had never heard or seen the sea lillies. Perhaps this is because they come out of bulbs and they bloom for too short. Then, if you don’t know about them, you wouldn’t look under a tree in the sand (washed by the surf in winter too) to find such a flower, when there so many places to look for interesting plants on the dry land.
Why don’t those flowers behave right? Well, I think that if they did they wouldn’t smell so divine.
They are the Alkyon sea bird. Why doesn’t it nest on safer ground than those rocks right over the killer surf of the sea in winter? If they did, they would be plain birds (white, brown or black) and they wouldn’t have that shiny electric blue-green-yellow colour. They wouldn’t set an example, there would be no myth connected to them and we wouldn’t be so happy to see them -we, lonely swimmers of lonely rocky coves.
Have I filled a computer screen? I think I have. So I’ll write no more in my blog tonight. There will be another full computer screen tomorrow.
εδώ ψιχαλίζει απόψε
και είναι πολύ ωραία.
Εύχομαι και σε σας να είναι
το ίδιο καλά και καλύτερα.
Yes, sometimes beauty emerges only through hardship and grief; sometimes through tears comes a clarity of vision. What does not kill me makes me stronger, so they say Eleni.
Wednesday February 1, 2006 – 02:45pm (PST)
I know the spot. What do I win if I find the bulbs and send you a photo?
Thursday February 2, 2006 – 12:51pm (EET)
Do I have to tell you? I thought you were cleverer.
To find the bulbs is the prize, of course, what else?
Thursday February 2, 2006 – 12:41pm (PST)
You have the North of England branch of Hiking Ikaria utterly intrigued by these sea-lilies….And how often have I been bowled over by extraordinary scents on Ikaria and not traced the source..
Thursday February 2, 2006 – 08:42pm (GMT)