Picking basil and remembering how it grew in olive oil tins on every step on Crete, the scent of it so strong in the early morning, and how it flavoured tomato salads, rich soups, even a rich bread dense with fresh cheese and onions… I find it in Elytis, in his “Aegean Melancholy”:
And how Orion’s gold sword
Is scattered and spilled aloft
Dust from the dreams of girls
Scented with mint and basil!
the dreams of girls
...Theresa Kishkan 