Listening to the Waves

This is a peaceful time of year; except for one or two stormy days, the weather has been calm since I returned from England two weeks ago. All evening, until I fall asleep, I can hear the waves coming in to shore. I love falling asleep to the sound of the waves, and waking up with the sun. More and more anemones, like mauve and pink poppies, are carpeting the path to the beach, and under the olive trees are lush green patches of clover with yellow Bermuda buttercups. 

There are few visitors to Ayios Minas valley at this time of year - just occasionally people come to look after their land, or their goats, or to hunt. Minas has been busy doing renovations to the taverna and occasionally going up to the villages to fix someone's fridge, returning with fresh goat's cheese or some interestingly fizzy pomegranate juice.

I've had three swims in the sea in the last fortnight. My editing and literary agency work has been so busy for the last few months, I've barely had time for anything else, but it's been good to have some exciting projects, and even better now that life is gradually getting back to normal. I celebrated this weekend by writing up notes from last summer, and making the most of spring-like weather today with a walk to Agnontia with Lisa.

It's an easy walk, just following the first track from Ayios Minas up towards the road to the signposted turnoff, then winding back down again to the valley. We had a very quick cool-off in the sea, scrambled up the headland to what turned out to be a hair-raising sheer cliff, then explored the riverbed and the little old houses before heading back. 

And now the clouds are pink in a dusky pale blue sky. And the only sound is the sea, and the hiss of the wood on the fire.