In Greece, you don't have to adjust to the  time.It  is already configured differently here. The morning doesn't start  abruptly.It  unfolds gradually, through the light, the air, the silence of the streets.Even the traffic is softer here, as if the world knows in advance that there is no hurry. The rhythm of Greece is not about  slowness.It 's about  consent.It 's about the ability not to resist the day, but to go along with it. I've often noticed how easy it is to make...

I don't remember addresses. I remember light. Every house we lived in remained not just walls, but a feeling—the morning air, the sound of footsteps on the floor, the view from the window that eventually became familiar. Some houses were temporary, but they felt more secure than permanent ones. It was easy to breathe in them. Easy to be silent. Easy to be yourself—without the role of a guest. We arrived briefly, and when we left, it was as if we had to leave something behind.