Athens, Greece. This is the place where my childhood memories belong, the sea and its hills. The Sunday markets when farmers bring their harvests in the city. The streets I know very well, where I know people's homes and the places I spent countless days playing outdoors.
Summer days I would just open the gate of our property and walked amongst the wild plants, wild flowers, rocks of the mountain right next to our house where I have my own special place with my own special olive tree where I go to clear my mind, play with the bugs and animals that made that place their home.
I could still hear the breeze ruffling the leaves of the olive tree as I could smell the scent that comes from that hill.
Full moons were spent playing hide and seek with all the neighbourhood kids. Weekends running around the property playing catch me , climbing up the fig and orange trees in the back yard.
Writing this piece now I can just smell my mother's gardenias, our neighbor’s greek cooking and sweet smell of fruit trees around our house.
I miss being a child, where I would play with bugs and dirt, getting wet with the garden hose just because I wanted to cause trouble, play in the public playground with other kids and making friends.
I feel so old...seconds,minutes, hours,days,months, years go by so damn fast.
