The energy is different here. Immediately I feel soothed. I pick up on subtle shifts of light, and white orbs that flutter around the island.

It feels more ancient. Like too much happened, and not too much since then. Which is a good thing.

The land, from what I see, is sparse and spread out. It is rocky and steep. We climb the mountain, as the roads wind up higher and higher, peering over the sea, and the crests of the waves fade into the distance.


It's not what I imagined from all of the photos I've seen, but then again we didn't make it to Oia this time. (2 days is not long enough in Santorini)

The view is breathtaking. It's the kind of sight that stops the otherwise incessant train of thoughts dead in its tracks. It's expansive and everlasting.

The horizon is speckled with rocky islands made of pumice stone, and the ocean is sprinkled with boats of all sizes. The sky feels so wide, like its stretching it's arms out wide to embrace you. When the sun sets, the sky morphs through lavender, pinks, fuschias, fiery oranges, and then dips behind the mercurial blue.

The island feels like a place that angels would reside, and I'm sure they do. You can feel their protection veiled around you as you slide through the streets.


There is often romantic music wafting out of restaurants and shops, and there is an abundance of delicious and fresh food to be eaten... Over the course of 2 and a half hours and at least 1 bottle of wine.

As I sit nestled into a corner of the huge ferry vessel back to Mykonos, my soul feels like it has been cleansed of the business of the world. I feel calm, still, steady.

Santorini - I will be back.