Fifth Journey Day 138: Lizard Crossing the Silence

"Lizard Crossing the Silence" — A thin green breath moving through Meteora’s stone hush.

Date: September 23, 2025
Location: Meteora (Kalambaka), Greece

Morning in Meteora above Kalabaka, Greece—sandstone pillars rising like guardians, home to the cliff-perched monasteries of Meteora. Pine on the breeze, stone warming in the sun, and a landscape that teaches attention through its scale and patience.

Stone That Watches

The day began with the sensation of being watched by stone. The cliffs rose suddenly as I stepped off the bus. Though silent, they felt alert, as if they held every movement and echo in memory. I started on the trail that winds toward the monasteries. I wasn't climbing with purpose; I paused often to watch how the light folded itself into the rock’s crevices. With each step upward, the proportions of everything changed. The town below became smaller and less distinct while the cliffs grew more imposing, their shadows deep and shifting.

Pausing on the Trail

At one bend, I stopped and sat on a flat rock. The stone was warm from the morning sun, but the air remained cool and carried the faint scent of pine resin. Somewhere in the distance, a cicada droned, its sound pulsing against the stillness of the cliffs. The longer I stayed, the more I noticed: a small lizard darting between stones; the dry, scratching sound of wind moving through grass; and the way shadows lengthened and broke apart. None of it felt dramatic. It was steady, patient, and almost indifferent to my presence.

Between Monasteries and Empty Space

By the time I descended, I felt as if the rocks had pressed something quiet into me—a weight, but also a release. Yes, the monasteries clinging to the cliffs were striking, but what stayed with me were the empty spaces between the stone towers, where the air itself seemed sculpted.

Choosing Stillness Over Spectacle

I walked back into the village slowly, carrying the sense that today was not about seeking out spectacles, but rather, letting the vastness of it all remind me of my own smallness. It was a good kind of smallness—the kind that sharpens attention.

Travel Notes

• Weather: Clear morning with scattered clouds; 19°C; cool breeze carrying pine and stone dust; sun warming the rock faces.
• Scents: Pine resin, dry earth, and the faint mineral tang of sandstone warmed by light.
• Sounds: A steady cicada drone, wind scratching through grass, and distant echoes along the cliffs.
• Reflection: The landscape’s scale pressed a quiet into me—an attentive smallness that felt like release.

Continue the Journey

If this quiet stayed with you, wander next to the olive-lit rhythms of Thessaloniki in Dance of the Olive Trees, or step into myth-shadowed streets in Athens with Mysteries of Medusa.