A Beautiful Moment

 It was morning. Much earlier than daddy would have liked. But our flight was an early one and we were a good hour away from the (Thessaloniki) airport, in the friendly and, at this time, sleepy village of Vrasna. Irini had insisted on waking up just 15 minutes early to walk to the water and watch the sunrise. As luck would have it neither Amalia nor mommy would make it. And so the walk, in the slowly lit morning, was calm and quiet and slow. 

We made our way to the beach where the previous days there had been crowds and music and running children and the hustle and bustle of any tourist town in high season (and surely would be later today as well). But in this moment there was hardly a whisper. Only a slight swaying of water which, as we approached, we realized was the welcoming echo of light waves coming, going, ever so gently. There was hardly a wave, really. It is, as the Greeks say, oil. 

And with the calm we were drawn, of course, to the edge of the water, welcoming us to a gradually growing glow. The sun would make its way up over the horizon a few minutes later and we watched intently, allowing the moment to fill us with wonder, and hope, and light and the calmness of a very light breeze and that ebb and flow on water with nowhere to go. 

There are moments which you think might last only a short while, but which then seem to have etched themselves into your brain and, deeper still, in into your soul. This was just one such moment. Where the world called and we - thanks to Irini - listened, marveled and let it all seep in.