Disorganized organization

I don't know about you, but I'm a sucker for surprise discoveries. This may go against what I wrote yesterday about the unruly untidiness of nature (cf. The German Invader), but to me it makes sense in that I don't want nature butting in without an official invitation once order has been established.



Orderly gardens, for instance, are places where both method and carte blanche have been bestowed upon nature. A certain leeway has been given so that nature can 'do its thing' but within boundaries. That's the one side of the story.

The other as I mentioned at the start, is when nature maintains its chaotic disheveled appearance and startles you with its perfection, a perfection that no human hands have adapted to suit interests. Taken to the next level, this perfection is one where the tools nature provides have been used to assist someone, as is the case with the rocky steps in the picture here. 

What is so captivating is the sense of mystery that places like these have to offer. As I sat looking at this makeshift staircase, I felt like a little Tom Sawyer, drawn to adventures those steps would lead me to. I was a ten-year-old once again, beckoned by those stones to go up and discover a new mysterious location. Unlike Robert Frost, I wouldn't have to choose which path to take, and there was no moral dilemma as to the outcome of the trek. The ten-year-old that stood before this messy sight of overgrowth had a clear pathway laid out before her feet and curiosity demanded satiation. 

A combination of disorganization and order is ultimately what pervades all walks of life in Greece. We're not 100% structured, nor 100% heathenish. When we say we'll go out with friends, we call each other up about an hour before we meet, and play everything by ear. Disorderly organization. As we prepare for a big Christmas meal, more guests arrive at the last minute no questions asked, but enough food has already been bought so no harm done. Disorganized organization. State services have fixed documentation they require but this often changes and you end up running from one public building to another with different civil servants all telling you different things. Utter disorganized organization.

It's therefore no small wonder that pictures such as the one I uploaded make perfect sense to me. Someone took beautiful sun-bleached stones from the beach and built a stairway to heaven, or at least to their summer house up the hill. That, of course, changes nothing for the ten-year-old in me who ignores summer houses and owners looking for ways to accommodate their leisure. The ten-year-old sees only opportunities to explore, new adventures leading to discoveries, going where few have gone before -- a chance to reconnect with the archetypal hunter-gatherer in us, the David Livingstons and James T. Kirks, the Cousteaus and da Gamas, the Bilbo Bagginses and Indiana Joneses.