Wistful Reminiscenes

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.