I’m sitting under a sky that ranges from deep celadon to azure. Stars are just peeking out from the heavens in the darkest shades. The Mediterranean sounds from below, crash, crash, crash. Gently.
A light breeze blows through the open front door of my little villa on a hill and lands on my shoulders at the other end of the room, past the flung-open French doors leading to the back porch. I can see the last glints of oranges purples and yellows in the sky over the mountain to my right and in front of me, the dark outline of the island Nisyros, an active volcanic island.
It is a perfect evening.
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