Sunday 22 August 2021, morning
The sun is still hidden behind the mountains in this lake-like bay. Slowly it makes its way higher, colouring the Mediterranean pines peach. A rooster heralds its approach, confirming to last night’s party-goers and today’s day-afterers which time of day it is. The distant church bells confirms which day of the week it is. And slowly, dogs, people and traffic come alive.
But that’s all ashore. Not out here, in the pool of the bay. Here it’s still still, the water only disturbed by the smoothest of winds bringing me the scents of the mountains, and the occasional morning swimmer. This must be the tranquility the bay is named after.
I arrived in Greece three days ago, and am staying with my parents on their boat. It’s taken three days to understand that I’m really here, that they’re here, that we’re alive and together and vaccinated. Three days until I’m resurrected into tranquility and gratitude.