Tomorrow we leave Crete. It’s been a life-changing, healing winter here. I’ll be sad to wave goodbye to this magical island but we’ll return in a few years I’m sure. Slowing down and hibernating overwinter has allowed me to notice how the sunset moves along that far horizon from left to right as the days roll by; I’ve become aware that the tides are higher and wilder here around the new moon, and have had time to marvel as bright wildflowers explode colour across the landscape right after each torrential storm. I’ve learned that olive trees are a symbol of eternal life because they will return to life after the most severe trauma or cutbacks and will produce fruit in the harshest conditions – in fact I’ve been told the tastiest olives come from the tough mountain trees but people rarely harvests them these days as it’s difficult terrain and not cost effective. I’ve learned that the evergreen tamarisk trees surrounding our van can also exist in harsh conditions including rooting in salinated soil that is mostly sand – I’m in awe at the abilities of these most tenacious plants and trees. Feeling grateful for these experiences and memories, and the learning that the best things don’t always come from growing in ease and comfort.