Ios

I just finished a refreshing, recharging session of star gazing at Milopotas Beach, on the west coast of Ios island. After everyone else had left for the bars in town, I grabbed a hoodie and my airpods and headed to the beach. I laid down on the now completely deserted sand and listened to Craig David’s full “The Story Goes...” album, singing out loud while processing, reminiscing and daydreaming (does that term apply when done at midnight?). 

Millions of flickering stars filled a whole spectrum of intensity —Not one single cloud in the sky, which has been a consistent norm for the past weeks. 

I remember how my mom used to say you shouldn’t start counting the stars, otherwise you’d get an ugly wart on your face unless you finished, which was impossible. 

I thought about our unbeatable night sky back home on mount Teide, with zero light pollution, and how I’ve always wanted to share that one star-gazing experience with the one person that settles in my heart and earns it for good.

I also took delight in my ignorance regarding astronomy and constellations, when even I could tell it was extremely possible that I was facing some pretty obvious ones at that very moment. 

That led me to reflect on how thousands of years ago people relied on the night sky for orientation at sea, at the very Aegean Sea whose crashing waves where playing in the background enhancing Craig David’s already beautifully enthralling vocals. 

I was filled with a sense of gratitude and wonder regarding life, which is easy to appreciate under a clear, warm starry night on a heavenly Greek island, but not so much during an often stressful and demanding daily routine. 

Life is what you make it —What you choose to see, to feel and to own. And I think some of the people I’ve met, the things I’ve seen and learned and the things I’ve felt are in a way God’s way of reminding me of that and keeping my mind and my heart joyful, hopeful, transparent and alive. 

PS.: I caught TWO shooting stars.