Creole Nights

We stride up the rocky path, filling the clear April air with girlish chatter. I am slightly light-headed from lack of sleep, but the feeling only adds to the ethereal effect cast by the early morning sunlight. The hilly backdrop of Greece cocoons our group as we near the top of the slope, already sweating despite the slight chill.

At first glance, there is not much to see when we reach the top: mainly tough little trees and scattered ruins, a familiar picture by now due to their ubiquitous presence at every site we have visited so far. I sit to the side on a sun-warmed rock, catching my breath and trying to ignore my growing disappointment at the sheer sameness of the crumbling relics, Delphi’s lack of individuality despite its reputation. I should not have judged by appearances.

Looking up, I see my schoolmates scattered across the site. There are not many other tourists here, given the early hour, and we have the area nearly all to ourselves. Voices drift across the spring breeze and the newly budding leaves rustle gently, as though they were whispering secrets among themselves.

Then all sound stops as the sun finally unfurls itself over the standing pillars of the Temple of Apollo. I see the rays glance through them, illuminating the ruins and beyond: to the still-standing stadium, the looming theatre, and the hills behind them. The whole area bathes in the sun’s warm glow and for a moment, seems to reach back thousands of years to reclaim, however briefly, its former glory.

A feeling of immense peace goes through me and alongside it, a sense of awe, rising from some deep well inside. I have never felt such harmony before and I doubt I ever will again. In that moment I feel Delphi’s history press upon me and consider what the ancients would say if they could see their beloved oracle now, falling into myth and legend, the times of heroes and priestesses long gone. Yet there remains a power, undiminished with age, which speaks directly to the soul and the heart. I felt it that spring morning as I looked beneath what was there to find something wonderful. You have to find it, and know it, for yourself.