Valley Of Silence by Fiona Macleod.
“In the secret Valley of Silence no breath doth fall; no wind stirs in the branches; no bird doth call: as on a white wall a breathless lizard is still, so silence lies on the valley Breathlessly still.
In the dusk-grown heart of the valley an altar rises white: no rapt priest bends in awe before its silent light: but sometimes a flight of breathless words of prayer white-wing’d enclose the altar, eddies of prayer.”
For those dear to me, who have touched my heart.
“But I don’t ‘go to the isles’ for beauty. The isles – the past – the pagan wonder and mystery – come to me! It is what a writer receives that makes him or her. All art is from within. It is from what dies into one, and is reborn.”
~ Fiona Macleod
I have so many fond memories bursting and jostling in my mind for attention, demanding to be written down and recorded. So many things that I have wanted to write, before they eventually dissipate, evaporating, either into the air, becoming lost forever, blown as whispers upon the winds, or drowned, merging once again as one in the depths of the ocean.
They beg to be given another life, another form to be. So I create this for them. A little place for each one of them. Little individual stories that make up the whole.
Twelve years on Crete, so many beautiful moments, good times, dear, beloved people, many magical moments, encounters and experiences. Here is where I shall express them, as little droplets as they fall.
I shall begin with a quote of Beauty, apt for my cause…
“A sudden fragrance of violets in an unexpected place, a last fragrance of memory.”
~ Fiona Macleod – The Dominion Of Dreams