Some day I might actually blog about something other than the trip I took 3 months ago. Shocking!

But seriously, now. Delos blew the top off my head. I was Not Right In My Mind (even more than usual) for about 6 weeks afterward, and my internal landscape has permanently shifted.

Our ship docked at Mykonos, and it was about a 45-minute boat ride to Delos through that lovely blue water, with small, austere islands on either side:

The entire island is an archaeologic site. The only people allowed to stay there are scientists, who live in small houses clustered together at one end of the island.

We climbed off the boat and saw this large bed of crazy succulent plants:

We had an excellent tour guide. I’m not sure he meant to be as funny as he was, but he was very “Greek pride, y’all!” Here you also have a view of my mother Paying Attention and me probably looking at a plant.

This post is late in coming, because I’m not sure what to say about what went on in my head on Delos. When the poem I wrote about it finds a home and gets published, you’ll get a hint of it.

It was hot that day. The chamomile and wild herbs made the air thick with a green scent that I can still smell if I think about it. It’s a slightly mad scent.

And the houses, the streets are so well-preserved that they don’t look like piles of rocks.

It’s easy to hear echoes of the busy town that used to be there.

And it’s so small that you never forget you’re on an island, the whole of which is sacred, one big temple.

With ghosts looking out from the shadows of houses:

(can you see them?)

A theater with excellent acoustics

And reminders of how long the years have been:

Just when I thought I might pitch over sideways, we stopped in front of the temple of Dionysus, with the penis-headed chickens and 2-foot high balls. Seriously. And THAT was a whole different kick in the head, to be reminded that poetry is also about laughter. That the madness of Dionysus is sometimes just silly.

There are two mosaics that made my head buzz like a robot with a shorted fuse. One outside:

In this one, the winged Dionysus rides a tiger. The one in the museum

shows him riding a leopard. I didn’t get a picture of that one, because by that point I had Pop Rocks inside my head. Mom and my sister were exhausted and hot after our tour through the museum, so they had a sit-down while I climbed the hill up toward the temple of Isis:

I didn’t make it all the way up there, unfortunately. Fortunately? By the time we got back to the ship, I was on the verge of tears, so I stayed back to take a nap while Mom and Sister went shopping. Poetic Readjustment is exhausting. When they got back, they excitedly told me all about how they had met Johnny Depp, which turned out to be this cat:

And here’s a token picture of Mykonos, because I understand that people who are not me think it’s just as interesting as Delos. (I guess those people don’t have Dionysus for a muse.)

Then we sat on the deck of the ship for a while, still in the heat but at least in the shade. Mom and Sister slept while I knitted on my friend A’s kilt hose. A huge ferry came in, and for many minutes I heard a woman’s voice on a looped recording that lulled me into a doze of black wool, sun on the water, her voice. (Still Readjusting in the background.)

And just in case you think I’m exaggerating about how I went crazy that day, check out my photo at dinner:

Told you. I had a good whack of Bonkers. When I got home I spent over a month with almost no sleeping or eating because of ALL THE WORDS falling out of me in huge clumps. It was rather disruptive.

Also, I have forgotten to mention that each night on the ship, we got a towel animal. You know who loves a good towel animal? My sister.