Hello to Spring from the Aegean

The notes that Vivaldi uses to describe spring in The Four Seasons are amazing. Even if you listen to the music in the middle of winter, you still feel spring.

I feel like I'm walking in a meadow full of daisies, under the sun, while listening to the spring of the Four Seasons. Nature wakes up, and so does man, with the quality of being a part of nature. You want to push everything aside and leave yourself in the hands of nature. Your whole being wants to let go. It relaxes, softens, and makes you feel drunk. The lightness of the butterflies flying around you seems to envelop your body.

The warming air has a sweet coolness in spring. You understand how great a longing it is to lie on a pebble-filled shore in the North Aegean and watch the sea and the hills, watching a boat that breaks through the surface of a milky sea that sometimes looks like a sheet, sometimes like fish scales, in spring. You want to become one with the sacred awakening of nature and blend in with that great awakening. You throw yourself into the depths of the chance to be a very small part of the four and a half billion year old movement.

Sitting on the edge of a boat, the sun's rays hitting the fluttering of the fish-scaled surface of the sea dazzle your eyes and a sweet sleep is slumber, forcing you to lie down on the rocks. At that moment, you become one with the world and nature, yet you are completely detached from the world. There is nothing, nothing on your mind about the world. Your brain goes blank, but you still can't stop thinking. Nazım embellishes that moment:

Photo: Arda Tunca

A red cloud over the sea,

Silver ship on your face,

Inside is a yellow fish,

Blue moss at the bottom.

A naked man stands on the shore and thinks.

Should I be a cloud or a ship?

Should I be a fish or algae?

Neither this, nor that, nor that...

You have to be a sea, my son.

With its cloud, its ship, its fish, its seaweed.

It's nice to be involved in nature from the sea, son.

20.04.2012