every place is its own island | day 33
greek island autumn diaries > day 33
then the day came in which i left the island; an entire month lived by the changing moods of the sea and the wind. walking desolate roads and becahes with no one on them, through silent villages and fields of olive trees and goats, tasting more varieties of solitude. can we ever really understand what a place means to us until we leave it? every place is its own island…
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