Lately I’ve been very into the idea of Gaia. Y’know mother of the titans (who are buried in these mountains btw) aka Mother Earth. It started with a joke during the Vikos Gorge hike when someone asked where they should toss their banana peel and I just threw out “Give it back to Mother Gaia,” and then throughout the day I continued to reference her. When I had to dispose of the rest of my cucumber, “Dear Mother, accept my offering.” Or when the clouds blocked out the sun, “Thank you Mother Gaia for the shade.” Or when the view was unfathomably beautiful, “Wow Gaia, good work.”

So this Gaia thing began as a joke but the more time I spend here the more real she becomes. And wasn’t she out to play today. This morning, for example, when I was walking to Megalo listening to Sam “Siren” Smith, there were clouds sitting in the gorge.

Literally just sitting there as if Mother G poured them from a pitcher. And then by the time I had traversed the mountain, cutting through the shortcut, the levitating ocean was gone. But later between the morning session with Christina and our time with Shira, I was lying on the floor in the courtyard and was greeted by billowing sky pillows galloping in slow motion. Honestly the clouds today were so beautiful, I thought to myself “These clouds have people in them,” that’s the most accurate way I can describe it.

Mitera Gaia (I’m not going to try to use Greek letters because I don’t want to be wrong) wasn’t about to let us forget that clouds are more than beautiful, immense, and ephemeral though. By the end of our session with Shira, our brainstorming was accompanied by the sound of an actual storm approaching from afar. Once we arrived in our rooms in Mikro the rain started coming down, the clouds that I admired this morning just unloaded their content onto us. These clouds were also powerful, destructive, and loud.  And as if choreographed, the downpour ended right at 5 when we watched a play reading by the OYL company.

And let me tell you, Queen Mother knows the definition of a finale. After a really productive Mikro session planning our workshare for tomorrow we had to walk all the way back to Megalo for dinner and because dinner in Greece happens after my usual bedtime the walk back was in darkness. Well not darkness exactly because once the sun goes down the sky becomes illuminated by stars. Interrupting our fake Lana Del Rey song game (“Champagne Bidet” anyone?) is a yelp, “Whoa, look at that!” We look up and see the most unbelievable shooting star, more a comet really. A fluorescent white-blue streak tears across the sky and fizzles in a millisecond flash of every colour. The God’s fireworks. Artemis’ arrow. Aphrodite dipping her foot in the water. I’ve never seen anything like that, ever.

I owe it all to you, G.

—  Tristan

Share On


Related Posts