It was so rewarding and so refreshing to see this well-worn path through her eyes, eyes that delighted not only in the views, but in all those little and often unnoticed things along the way: an empty snail's shell, a couple of falcons wheeling high above us, a tiny flower growing out of a rock, a cricket virtually camouflaged on the path (she wasn't too sure about that one).
She saw her first dragonflies, delighted in the many butterflies fluttering around the rosemary bushes in full bloom, fancied tasting a myrtle berry straight off the bush (not such a good idea) , picked numerous daisies and wild cyclamen to take to her mother and asked a thousand questions, not all of which I could answer.From above the bay, I showed her the huge scar on the hillside caused by quarrying many years ago and told her that her great-grandfather had been one of the miners who had worked there at the time. We went down to the plateau, walked to its end and admired Capri in the distance. I didn't take her down to the beach, since I knew that I would never get her home! We will be back though, next spring, when it is warmer. That's a promise.