16/03/2025
Reflections in a moment of solitutde. Spring in Ancient Greece
I’m walking along paths once trodden by the Ancient Greeks—philosophers, priests, healers, and ordinary citizens like you and me. These stones have felt the weight of time, yet they still whisper their stories.
We wander through ruins—limestone columns, broken pediments, amphitheatres, statues. My mind tries to conjure the grandeur of what once stood here. I can almost hear it: the solemn lines of a Greek tragedy echoing across the theatre, the shuffle of gladiators moving through the dark tunnel into the blinding light, the roar of the crowd. I can hear the desperate prayers of the sick and their families, making their offerings in hope to Asclepius, the God of healing and medicine, for a miracle cure.
And now, in 2025, where once there was such life, there are only ruins. Yet they are magical, offering glimpses of the past, hints of a history that still lingers in the stones. And while all the tourists are on the islands or in Athens, we find ourselves alone in the Asclepeion of Epidaurus. So I am more easily transported back 2,300 years ago.
It’s mid-March in Greece. 25 degrees, the sun warm on my skin, a light breeze refreshing the air. I sit in the middle of the Temple of Asclepius, god of medicine and healing. A moment of quiet reflection, taking in the peaceful atmosphere.
The amphitheatre of Epidaurus, the most intact in the ancient world, looms nearby. We've had fun playing with the acoustics which allowed the spectators up high in the back rows to hear the drama unfold.
But here, in my place of solitude sitting on a sun-warmed temple seat, nature has woven itself into these mystical ruins, giving them life and vibrancy.
Swathes of purple and yellow spring flowers push through cracks in ancient stone.
Distant hills, dotted with pines and olive trees, rise up as a glorious backdrop to the spendid theatre.
A hazy blue sky stretches endlessly above.
A lazy gecko basks on a sun-warmed seat beside me.
The sounds of life—birds chirping joyfully, a distant cockerel, the steady drone of a passing bumble bee, all unchanged in the 2,300 years since this place of healing and pilgrimage was built.
Spring in Ancient Greece. Quite wonderful.