Crete, creator of man.

Odd that everything about Crete and its people seem designed to make me want to stay or return here. And yet, the people here have been travelers and sailors since pre-history. Pre history takes on new meaning here. It is not the time of writing. It is the time when myths and legends were created. Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon and Kronos, men and Gods and giants intertwined. Time so deep in our bones that writing was created to define it. Writing to give it permanence and then shape and blend that legend into new experiences which, hold at their heart the seed of time itself. Like a dried pomegranate with the juice, red as blood, waiting within. 

The core of our existence before clocks or print or Internet. Time told in the age of mountains, trees and streams marked the lives of men and beast. A time of muscle and bone and sinew. Man created, because of need and excelled to assert domination over the beasts and nature that tried to bring the ego-filled creature down to earth again. And man stood tall and said no, we shall conquer all that is before us. We will not cower in caves but build temples. We will not long for, yet fear the sea we will build ships and ride the storms. We, this race called man, will form and create a world in an image we choose. 

Only then did man say, now we shall write of our ancestors who conquered nature, and in writing they will be remembered. So Crete at its heart is a place to move from and yet the soul knows it began here, in this place of conquest.