At the Northern tip of Agistri is the beautiful church Agioi Anargyroi.
Its white-washed walls and blue dome seem to inhale the colour of the early night sky, imbued with memories of welcome and farewell, laughter and cries.
Lofty, light, against the dawn of dark, it is their keeper and protector, their landlord and their host.
They float invisibly through open doors, sit on a window sill, wave from arches high on up, just in time to meet their maker’s eye.
“Invest in me”, they call, “but don’t entrap me.”
“I am yours to keep, to cherish and to love, wherever you wish me to reside.
As free as you can imagine me, as bound as you will have me.
Find me here but also in the blue of night, the gold of day, and the turning of the tides.”
And then they vanish. Without a whisper, the air unstirred, as quick as thought releases them.