The strange nature that is time flows irreversibly down this river of life; the weeks pass, landscape changes, and a sea of faces and personalities have shuffled before my eyes through this past year. Seemingly, like a series phantasmic visions come true, a year of memories percolate into this very moment, seated at a cafe on an unseasonably cold night along the Lycian coast. Not far away, the cliffs plummet into the sea, standing stark and foreboding as they ever have over the course of millennia; in turn, witnessing the passing of civilizations and empires. Yet, here I am — a feckless mote of dust drifting by, momentarily conscious of this grand illusion.
I’m awaiting another night bus to transport me north to Selcuk. This quiet moment away from the bustling noise of Antalya is spent in quiet reflection of the ventures passed and the near-terminus of this great journey. I do not know what lies ahead, and to be frank, have not given much ponder to what is to come. It was, and will always be, a miracle of a year — the most rare crystalization of time, resource, and opportunity to even hope of such an adventure, let alone the successful realization of such a dream; in a word: unforgettable.
I’d seen the most clement weather for the vast majority of this trip. Today brought unusually dreary weather; perhaps, the sky, too, is saddened that the journey’s end draws nigh. Thus, after unexpectedly staying four plus days in Antalya, I took stock of the glum weather and visited the Antalya Museum. It was a most apt occasion to reflect on the great epochs bygone and the faded glories of Phylygia, Rome, Byzantium, and the Ottoman Empires. It is a fitting, if all too concrete reminder that all things have their season and all must come to an end. Come tomorrow, I’ll be reminiscing ruins of Ephesus… all things must draw to an end.
