By Heidi Trautmann
While white clouds of almond blossoms cover our hills, spring flowers please our eyes and mind, and the scent of yellow broom everywhere makes us lift the nose, there is deep winter in the Trodoos mountains around the Olympos, the highest point with around 2000 metres.
It was after a week long stretch of heavy rains in the plains, actually it was Carnival Monday, that we decided to check whether we could have a true snowball fight before spring winds are melting away the magnificent frozen status of water. Snow which awakes so many lovely memories: the first sledge I was given after WWII, hand-made; the first skis I tried to make myself from the planks of a barrel; I remember well that I bound them to my feet but they would not move and made me plunge into deep snow. The winter days when we children came home with red cheeks and a sense of mystery under the icy moon and stars; and this coming home into the warmth of a home where I could smell the wood burning in the stove and the cookies baking for Christmas, still means the feeling of security of a family.
On Rose Monday the air was clear and the sky dark blue against the white of the area around Olympos, where skiers tried their skills drawn up by ski lifts. The trees were completely covered in icy snow, bent deep from the heavy load.
Just down below we knew was the blue sea.