I don’t always find what I look for

But I find something. Last week I got lost looking for the bakery and found the market. Today I got lost looking for the market and found myself in this tiny tucked away Greek Orthodox church.It was dark and quiet, with the most distinct otherworldly quality to it. I wanted to take photos but the faces of St John the Baptist and Archangel Michael gave me a Don’t even think about it vibe. There was much art in the small space, including Pantocrator style icons, and a depiction of a saint among snow covered mountains, watched by people between icicles/cracks in the icebound lands. I saw a pile of torn bread by the door, and a small bucket of water at one edge of the taper lit salt/sand(?) filled shrine. Couldn’t work out the name by the door,bet l never find the place again.

Wild night, and the wind’s not letting up today. Exhilarating, even after I had the merry hell bitten out of me, that electrical mozzie death contraption leaves a lot to be desired. The place is a small old Venetian house, and wants airing daily, so it can’t be kept lock tight, but screens would help.

Meanwhile, today is a day of the air. Nothing is still.