The Olive Line

Salonista Cynthia
2 min readAug 5, 2020

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This was written in 2000. From my notes” I am here in San Diego to heal and learn. ad I understood that a few months ago my life would have improved. I am reading a book about a woman who went on a horse from Greece on the Silk Road. Very inspiring!

Villages above the olive line.

From my first trip fascinated me, the age of the trees.

Villages where time forgot and their inhabitants only brought into the present by the bus to Volos.

I met baby goats at Easter, picked wild greens to eat, found wild oregano to dry from the rafters as a seasoning.

7 am coolness going to the 600 yr old bakery with loaves cooked over a wood stoked furnace. The bread’s taste can still haunt me! the short cut through the stones between the houses looking up the mountain.

The stream next to the house of stone, cool in the summer heat with a fireplace for the winter, walls three feet thick.

I have felt closed in by walls three feet thick that my love couldn't flow. Rules I didn't know that we're never taught. My thirst for knowledge led to my acceptance. I enjoyed the remoteness, time in nature, the olive trees, apples, chestnuts, honey, and grapes.

Still, years later one word can take me back to memory to the mountain , the fassoulada, celebrations as If I was another person.

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Salonista Cynthia
Salonista Cynthia

Written by Salonista Cynthia

Passionate about art and science, I identify as a poet. Concentric careers made me an entrepreneur. My imagination is where I live!

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