Monday, July 7, 2008

last days




I took these shots yesterday, 7/7, my last day of work in Mesias, on the Pelopenesse overlooking the gulf. The blue you see in any of these pictures beneath the sky is that of the water and the Gulf of Messinias. It’s hard to think of leaving this place, so slow and tranquil is the pace. Days of the week have been completely forgotten by me as I make extra efforts now to remember them with my coming departure.

Erhard let me get up on the tractor, backing it up a bit so he could unhitch the chipper. But I did drive the van again, quite a bit, with Jody beside me riding passenger. We go to different bits of land to do more clearing, more chipping of the trees that grow wild suffocating young olive trees. He’s still I the process of establishing his entire grove, 300 trees, each registered with the government here which still, along with the EU, offers substantial grants to farmers for sheep, cattle, cotton and olives.
On one of his plots, Erhard has put a hammock, a bit higher than the one at Andy’s but and with a substantially different view. I was lying on this one, Erhard sitting nearby on a tractor smoking a roll up, wondering if he stops occasionally to examine how fortunate he is. In summer, when he feels like it, he goes to his hobby which is this orchard of olives overlooking the gulf which he will swim in later on the same afternoon. He only works 4 hours at most and again, when he chooses. The olive oil he produces is sold by relatives, organic, in Germany and provides a small income to supplement his grants of approximately 500 Euro.
Today I’m in the beach front village of Kardamili sitting at a sidewalk cafĂ©, they’re all sidewalk or beachfront here. I hiked down from the mountain, hanky in hand and sweating all the way at 10 a.m. grateful for each little breeze that came along. Now, I’m waiting for Doretta to pick me up on her trip to the post office, afraid I’ve missed her. I think I should be at the beach anyway. My suit and a towel are in the backpack and I’ll have to leave you now to make the short walk to water

1 comment:

La Kaje said...

I can also relate to this forgetting what day it is, such a wonderful thing. And how lucky we are that we can remember how fortunate WE are once in a while. So good.