Dear Twilight Hunter,
Santorini is one of the most captivating places I have ever been. I visited the Greek island in March 2012 when most of the shops, restaurants and even hotels were still shut for the off-season, and was fortunate for the weather to be warm, sunny and calm, when I could just as well have come for the cold, wet and grey. I spent most of my time either sitting and staring at the island crescent pincering an undersea volcano, or strolling around the island spine at dusk or dawn. I took hundreds of photographs, I was unable to put the camera away. The shapes and colours and doorways of Santorini sang with the sky and sea, and the island tugged at me the hardest when the sun was low. The cliff-heights cry danger, the swallowing ocean bespeaks infinity, and the copper sky at night as a sparkling cruise ship departs hints at an eternal ending. In the day, when the blue church-tops glint in the sun and the first-of-spring heat makes you feel a little fuzzy, Santorini is beautiful. It smiles, dances, mellows and laughs. But at the turn of night and day, Santorini is sublime. There is another, deeper, darker draw, and it impossible not to get caught up, tossed around, and sunk. At least, that is, when you luck out on the weather.
Yours,
QM
Santorini is one of the most captivating places I have ever been. I visited the Greek island in March 2012 when most of the shops, restaurants and even hotels were still shut for the off-season, and was fortunate for the weather to be warm, sunny and calm, when I could just as well have come for the cold, wet and grey. I spent most of my time either sitting and staring at the island crescent pincering an undersea volcano, or strolling around the island spine at dusk or dawn. I took hundreds of photographs, I was unable to put the camera away. The shapes and colours and doorways of Santorini sang with the sky and sea, and the island tugged at me the hardest when the sun was low. The cliff-heights cry danger, the swallowing ocean bespeaks infinity, and the copper sky at night as a sparkling cruise ship departs hints at an eternal ending. In the day, when the blue church-tops glint in the sun and the first-of-spring heat makes you feel a little fuzzy, Santorini is beautiful. It smiles, dances, mellows and laughs. But at the turn of night and day, Santorini is sublime. There is another, deeper, darker draw, and it impossible not to get caught up, tossed around, and sunk. At least, that is, when you luck out on the weather.
Yours,
QM
