Gazing at this landscape it is very difficult to imagine what might have been going through the mind of Saint John the Theologian as he wrote his Apocalypse. His terrible visions of fire and brimstone, death and destruction seem extremely remote from this wonderful summer day. Sorry, I just can't grasp the concept at the moment.
What is really grabbing my attention is the swathe of lush green trees before me. For all I have heard and read about what an arid, rocky, barren island Patmos is supposed to be, it really doesn't look too dessicated from where I'm standing. It's not exactly Kent or Sussex, but a desert it's not.
The trees are undoubtedly somebody's pride and joy, and for whoever grew them they are a labour of love. Nurtured nature. Right now, I am very glad they put all that blood, sweat and tears into them, so that I can think more about Mount Olive than Golgotha.
For opening times of the monastery, see gallery page 9.
Read the story of the Book of Revelation on gallery page 10. |
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photos and articles:
© David John |
