The sounds of morning
Standing on the balcony on a Thursday morning, looking down over Symi harbour, I paid attention to the sounds that you can hear from this side of the village. Why? Well, I’d been out for an early walk up the hill – from Syllogos Square, to Kampos, up through Leoni to Agia Triada and then down through the village and back to home. The first such early walk since last year due to cold and weather.
The sun was still behind the hills as I left at around 6.40 but there were signs of life in the village. Nikitas had already opened his peripteron and Lefteris was already at work at the kafeneion, despite the fact that the sun was not yet up. The bakers had their wood oven open and there was the aniseed-tinted smell of baking in the air. A couple of soldiers in uniform passed me on their mopeds as they set off for work up at the barracks, and the rubbish collection teams were already out and about on the roads.
The usual sounds of the morning greet you at this time of day: the cockerels sounding off, chickens fussing about something vital to survival behind ruin walls, the early birds out looking for worms, and the distant sounds of a motorbike struggling up a hill, or the quiet rumble of one coming down with no engine yet switched on, a common trick around here to save fuel. The road was pretty deserted, only a few army guys and farmers passed in cars and trucks and, by the time I reached the top road to Periotisa, the sun was only just starting to drag itself up over the hilltop.
Later, on the balcony, I was treated to the sight of a flat calm sea and some activity down below. The sound of the navy ship as it started up and prepared to leave port, signalling its leaving with three solid blasts on its claxon. The coastguard launch starting up, churning the flat harbour water into ripples of lighter blue and white, and then speeding off into the bay and beyond where another navy boat could be seen far out; possibly one of the NATO patrols now in the Aegean. And for other sounds: a neighbour’s water pump whizzing into life, a tell-tale sign that someone was doing the washing, or in the shower. The sound of the school below and away to my right, with a bell ringing, soon followed by the sound of teenagers at play in the playground. A hawk of some sort wheeling about over it all, set against the distant white clouds that are the remains of a rainstorm from the night before, and the cats, somewhere nearby, in heated debate over territory rights or food.
And behind all that, a peaceful calm, the sun starting to warm the green hillside where weeds and herbs are now flourishing after only a little winter rain. The calm sea in shades of blue reflecting the sky, and the glare of the low sun on white-painted buildings across the harbour where only a few people were out and about, coming to and fro from work. All very calming and pleasant. My coffee break on the balcony came to its end and it was time to head back to the desk to try and write. The cat was in the courtyard finding the morning snooze spot, the washing was able to go outside in the sun, having spent a day and a night sheltering from the rain, and one hundred and one small jobs needed attending to around the house; tidying up, putting things away, airing the rooms with open windows and doors… and so back to work.
