Patchwork Floor

Coasting along the narrow lanes of what we assume is Athens, Greece because we can’t read the signs, the taxi begins to vibrate with the large drops of rain hurling from the sky. Zeus? It stops as the driver tells us to get out now, that he won’t go further up the hill. We walk up the even narrower passage between apartment buildings, almost able to touch both walls if we reach out our arms. We follow the crowds to the entrance of the Acropolis.


Without a guide or any previous research, I take photos of piles of rubble once part of the great Parthenon--I think.

What mesmerizes me the most? Not the legends nor the enormity of the structures in front of me. It’s the fabulous stone walkway beneath my feet. The recent rain has washed away the chalky dust, revealing deep gray, tans, and even brick red. Beautiful.

I could make a quilt like this. Pieces placed where they fit, no design, just color.