Wintry, Indelible Syros

“A photographer at heart, I am recording moments of this journey: I need to be able to come back to this when it’s all in my rear-view mirror. For me, photography extends an experience, feelings, impressions, interactions: images will bring back the sensation of the cold in the air, the sound of Aegean waves, the warmth of Greece’s winter sun, the views of the sea from high green fields . . . and so much more. And I will count, and recount, my blessings.”—Chiara-Sophia Coyle

Clicks & Relativity

By Chiara-Sophia Coyle

SONOMA California—(Weekly Hubris)—1 March 2022—In the midst of another pandemic winter and spring, and for an extended period of time, I find myself in Greece, one of my motherlands.

Having begun a new life’s chapter (titled “I have left corporate America, become a life coach, and am now figuring out how to balance work and travel”), I decided first to take a restorative side trip and spend a couple of months living on Syros and Crete with a very close and dear childhood friend.  

A photographer at heart, I am recording moments of this journey: I need to be able to come back to this when it’s all in my rear-view mirror. (I have written more here on the importance of using creative self-expression to stay connected to one’s cultures-of-origin.) 

For me, photography extends an experience, feelings, impressions, interactions: images will bring back the sensation of the cold in the air, the sound of Aegean waves, the warmth of Greece’s winter sun, the views of the sea from high green fields . . . and so much more. And I will count, and recount, my blessings.

My time on Syros, capital of the Cyclades, is now coming to an end. It’s been a while since I was in these islands in winter. If you know anything about Greece “off season,” you know the Cyclades are damp and very cold, December through March. You feel it to the bone, as the locals say. And if it’s windy, which it almost always is, this maritime chill is intensified multifold. There are days when it’s difficult to love the borderless, unbroken grey. Days when the sky, the water, and the horizon run together, and summer’s a distant memory, can get to you.

Being here during the pandemic added a layer of loneliness to the chill, as everyone here has been masked. Recent government measures banned live music, as well, so the few places that had been open earlier closed. What’s the point of gathering if you can’t enjoy the music that runs in a Greek’s blood?

At the same time, this winter loneliness has enabled a different sort of connection with the land, one that I have felt very grateful for as I have been able to take my time and slow down, breathe, just be. I have been reminded of the countryside of my childhood on Mykonos, that destination-island that has changed so much over the years. 

The next chapter of my journey will unfold on Crete and, soon, I will be sharing images with you from the small village of Milatos, located between Iraklion and Aghios Nikolaos.

For now, I have chosen some vivid Syros images to share with you, and hope you enjoy them!