«Days of Meltemi»
It’s not a writer’s block; it’s lobotomy. Look at the waves as they go up and down at dusk after the wind has died out. So fully they wash the mind from thoughts. This is the meltemi, the Etesian winds of the ancients. In the morning the mountains are clouded and the tourists wonder, “Is it going to rain?” Of course not. This is only wind, friendly breeze; full of good vapor, makes the land go wet and cool down. Cleans the beach from cigarette buts; provides good sleep as well and sweet dreams –my friend, the northwestern Maistros. Blow on blow on. Bring me news....