Kefalonia Photo Collection: All Shades of Blue

Cover of KEFALONIA COLLECTION on G+

What is this?

A microblog?

A photo album?

A forum where the image tells the story?

All of the above! 

Plus, a place to see and follow links to Kefalonia related posts on my other blogs.

CLICK HERE to VIEW and FOLLOW the KEFALONIA PHOTO COLLECTION ON G+

(As of Spring 2019, the Collection is no longer available as the G+ platform was shut down by Google)

Kefalonia World Random Memories: 15+1 from 150

A review of the past always presents difficulties.

Just how random are the posts chosen?
I'm not sure...
Were they objectively chosen?
Surely not!
I didn't even try.

A lot has changed over the past five years, especially in posting frequency.
But Kefalonia World remains the project closest to my heart; this review has been a catalytic reminder of that.

15+1 memories out of 150, spread over five years.
This is the rewind, and a nudge for the next five forward.
Thank you for staying tuned.

Click here for FULL SCREEN VIEW
Click on each slide TITLE to view each post

Impish September

 

Bring on September!

If there was such a scale, Kefalonia's September would score high on the unpredictability index.

On an island that could serve as a fitting definition of contrast and unpredictable disposition, this seems almost redundant. On second thought, Kefalonia itself is redundant—too much blue, too much green, too many beaches, too many cliffs,  too much sky, way too many images to process.

Speaking of images, if I were to dump all the images I’ve gathered over the years—an immense task, I assure you—into an unlabeled folder, I would not be able to pick out those taken in September. And that is just the  images captured by the camera. The images engraved in my mind would have to wait for that digital measurement that will replace the terabyte.

September sailing (Limenia, Kefalonia)

A collage of seasons in a single month

September can assume the bright colors of April, the dewy beauty of May, the awesomeness of June, the heat of July and August, the rain and thunderstorms of October, or the laid back indulgence of November.

And it does have them all -  in a daily change of mood that is often hard to keep up with.  

Sailing the Kefalonia-Ithaca Strait on a windy September day

Above all, September is impish, mischievous, a real rascal

Just when you thought you would enjoy the beach—free of the August crowds—the sound of rolling thunder reminds you that, even in this corner of the world, the calendar demands respect. But don’t be quick to pack away your flip-flops and beach towel. More likely than not, tomorrow will be a gorgeous day for the beach. So ease back and wait for the rascal’s temper tantrum to pass. Like most rascals, September really does have a heart of gold once you get to know him.

Easing back does not, by any means, imply that you must stay indoors until the storm is over.  I always alleviated my “pain” by taking a drive to the Lighthouse and focusing, digitally and mentally, on the rain that washes away the lingering sins of naughty August.

Argostoli Lighthouse on a rainy September day

But that is not all. September adds a “bonus track” in an effort to make up for its momentary wickedness. Aside from March, this is the best time of year to photograph Kefalonia’s stunning landscape as the rain also washes away the dust and heat of hardcore summer and renders all colors to their natural, basic hues.

Lourdas Bay eases into autumn in brilliant color

The season's slanted sun rays  highlight the turquoise among other blues, whitecaps to emphasize the predominance of the northwestern winds, and long shadows to mark the shift of the sun’s position in the horizon.  

Skies in layered gray and seas in light strips of turquoise is all any lens ever needs to be happy!

Trapezaki Beach in September mode

And then, there is always September the Imitator! 
Trying to pass as April or June and being really good at it. 

Like this:

Shades of September blue (Makris Gialos Beach)

Of course, there are those who have no interest in photographing the whims of the island or the month. They know that Kefalonia’s soft summer has just begun and prefer diving in to get the inside story instead of collecting digital accounts.

Koroni Beach

Never on Sunday!

Argostoli Bay, Kefalonia

It seems almost obscene to worry or have the slightest concern on a day like this.

More than just a Sunday, this was the first real day of Spring.
Everything just came together after months of longing: the sun, the sky, the breeze, the sea, the landscape in full blossom, the inevitable coming out to play.

Welcoming Spring by the sea at Avythos

 I must admit that I was caught by surprise; I've grown accustomed, over the last few months, to sharing these favorite places with only a fisherman, a jogger or two, and, maybe, a few cats.

The sun kissed day seemed to have enticed so many others to rush to the sea to feel, see, touch, hear, and smell the celebration of life that is Spring.

A picnic basket, a frisbee, a bucket to collect pebbles...
Yes, the earth's axis has finally slipped into its right position. Any problems or worries can certainly be moved back a day, they have no place here.

Never on Sunday, especially when it is like this!

Avythos Beach, Kefalonia

Springtime Blue

Lourdas Bay, Kefalonia

Regaining  its rightful place in the field of vision, at last!
The most soothing color, in such generous supply.
It will, of course, have to compete with yellow, and pink, and indigo over the next couple of months.
But I have it on good authority that it will outlast them all...

Sissia Monastery, Kefalonia

In the Company of Perfect Strangers

Makris Gialos Beach, Kefalonia (in late October)

There's an unspoken understanding and a silent solidarity between people who frequent some of my favorite places on the island. Communication is carried out mainly by glances, smiles, nods and gestures. Faces become familiar after a while and there's an inherent understanding and respect for that space that each of us is allotted for fulfilling the purpose of his visit.

A fisherman, a woman walking her dog, a couple waiting for the sunset, a jogger, an amateur photographer—each with their own agenda. Once in a while, after some familiarity is established, the nods and gestures are accompanied by a few substantial words and suggestions:
"...over those rocks you'll get a better view of the seagulls" 
"if you really want to capture some big waves, you should come in the morning"
or the inevitable question:  
"....do you ever publish these photos, is anyone interested in seeing winter images?"

I have learned so much from my "comrades in solitude." A fisherman gave me a condensed course in understanding weather so I can choose the right place and time for perfect clouds and colorful seas. An English couple tipped me off as to the purple skies of dusk that I might miss at Ammes Beach if I leave right after sundown. A jogger at Makris Gialos made a slight detour to leave some footprints so that my photo (above) would turn out less bland. Without a word, just a bow and a smile before he returned to his original path.

Thinking about this the other day, I found myself humming some lyrics from an old tune. One I haven't even heard in years, but so appropriate for the situation; it really describes what all us strangers do when smiling, nodding, and gesturing to each other in places of solitude...

Yes,indeed,

❝ We fill out the missing colors 
In each other's paint-by-number dreams...❞

(from Jackson Browne's The Pretender, paraphrased a tiny bit)

Bridging the Distance

The mainland as seen from southeastern Kefalonia

When skies take on pale, powder blue and gray shades, they do so with a purpose. Only then do the outlines of the mainland take on definite shape and form. Hazy blobs in the horizon pop out for what they really are: snow covered mountains, rugged islets, and rock formations acting as "pit stops" for seagulls. 

Some are closer than others but there is no use in trying to map out "what is what" and attach names to them—though each one does have a unique name.

On a clear-skies, true blue day you probably could because, strangely enough, there is less to see. Then, only the largest and well recognized islands and islets are visible.

But on subtle and mute-colored, less vivid, days the more obscure formations come into focus, blotting out the big picture and forcing you to concentrate on details.

Like the flight path of seagulls that bridges the distance between here and there.
Or, the relevance of distance itself when it comes to drifting over the sea.

A pit stop for seagulls along the southeastern coast of Kefalonia

Island Life in the Slow Lane

Getting "all my ducks in a row" at Pessada harbor, Kefalonia

Since it is impossible to avoid reality all of the time, I've made a pact with self. Monday through Friday I'll worry about the problems of the Euro zone, the banking system's junk bond portfolio mess, the potential euro collapse, the price of gasoline, etc, etc, etc.

But when the weekend rolls around, I'll do a complete reset.

Armed with the usual gear plus lots of unfounded and reckless—but essential—optimism, I drive along familiar roads and tracks, stopping randomly at  favorite spots. The weather, so far, is my best ally and most reliable accomplice. These tiny escapes are instrumental in building the necessary stamina for the Mon–Fri stretch.

Soak up enough sunshine and you too can have all your ducks in a row!

Pessada, Kefalonia (Mt. Aenos in the background)

Floating on clear aqua-blue waters

Lazy days for everyone, basking in precious autumn sun

Life in the slow lane at Pessada, Kefalonia

Off-season calm at Spasmata Beach, Kefalonia

November serenity at Minies, Kefalonia

Succumbing to to the natural healing power of proximity to the sea (Agia Pelagia, Kefalonia)

In a Blue State of Mind

Skala-Poros Coastline

Sky blue...

Cobalt...

Azure...

Cyan...

Ultramarine...

Powder blue...

Southeastern coastline, Kefalonia

 A palette as diverse as the emotions it evokes.
A hue array as wide as the sea.
A tone range as endless as the sky.
Yes, I'm in a blue state of mind and not complaining at all!

Ithaca: From Here to There and Back

If not for the brisk northwestern breeze blowing through the channel, the return journey from Ithaca to Kefalonia is uneventful.

Midway through crossing the channel, the eye wanders undecided. 
Left behind is the ultimate destination of dreams; ahead lies the overwhelming, massive floating rock that is home.

And the boat keeps shearing the water at a speed that leaves no time for regret, tilting a bit as the sea gets choppy.
 
As if to prepare you for the return to more familiar ground.

Ithaca outlined in the afternoon sky, with Kefalonia lurking in the background

Sailboats gliding between Kefalonia and Ithaca

Returning to Kefalonia with a northwestern breeze in the channel

And, without any undue guilt, as I mentioned when I started this blog, a mention of Captain Vangelis and his beautiful "Mythos" Glass Bottom Boat—the most gracious host on all my sea outings.

Thank you, Vangelis!

And, in case you missed the journey:
➥Ithaca Part I
➥Ithaca Part II
➥Ithaca Part III

Ithaca: Don't You Love Her Madly? (Part III)

On the way to Kioni, Ithaca

The third leg of the journey is a visit to Kioni, the traditional seaside village tucked away in the northeastern shore of Ithaca. Windmills, small cottages, and tiny chapels come into view—perched on rocky land intrusions into the gleaming sea.

Kioni itself is not as "mood intensive" as Vathy, but with an aura of its own.

Quayside at Kioni, Ithaca

Attention grabbing elements at Kioni, Ithaca

One last stop before leaving Ithaca...
One last dip in the enticing, blue waters of Filiatro Beach...

Aqua-blue perfect Filiatro Beach, Ithaca

To be continued......
Not the posts, THE JOURNEY...

In case you missed previous posts in the series:
➥Ithaca Part I
➥Ithaca Part II

Ithaca: Don't You Love Her Madly? (Part II)

The second leg of the journey is a stopover at Vathy, Ithaca's capital.
➥here's Part I, in case you missed it

St. Andrew's chapel at the entrance of Vathy Bay, Ithaca

The town is lazily sprawled along the inner horseshoe section of the deep, fjord-like bay.
A place to see and do a lot, or absolutely nothing.

Vathy, Ithaca

 It all depends on one's mood* (which is the key word in describing Vathy, to begin with).

Sailboats at Vathy, Ithaca

*note: I've been to Vathy at different times of the year and I find rainy spring or autumn days the most mood-definining and inspirational. I concede, though, that for most people a sunny day would be preferable!

Vathy Bay, Ithaca

The journey and the posts...
To be Continued...

Ithaca: Don't You Love Her Madly?

The only thing that beats being aboard a boat crossing the serene waters separating Kefalonia from Ithaca on a sunny September Sunday, is being on Ithaca .

1st stop: Gidaki Beach

Oh, how I had missed her!
So unpretentious, so soothing, so nostalgic, so vibrantly blue...

Testing the waters at Gidaki Beach

Gidaki Beach, Ithaca

Splash!

Diving from the deck at Gidaki Beach

Immersed in aqua-blue waters

Sailing from Gidaki Beach to Vathy, Ithaca

The journey and the posts...
To be Continued...

It Ain't Over Yet!

Fanari Beach, Kefalonia

September blue is a bit more vivid and arrogant, a bit more defined...
The day is shrinking as the sun becomes a bit lazier and cuts back on the overtime...
Compensating for this decline in quantity by quality..
Looking down from a different angle in the sky...
Bringing everything into sharper focus...
Summer lingers on...

(keeping my fingers crossed as I've "promised" late September blue seas and skies to Emma and Neal and Lynn and Andy)

Kefalonia Spelling Bee

If a place is destined to put its spell on you,
you might as well go along with it!

A-S-S-O-S

F-I-S-K-A-R-D-O

S-K-A-L-A