The world from my window

Picture: Dave Doe, Flickr It's not the Supermoon (and a blue one at that) everyone is talking about around these parts today. No, Supermoons are ten-a-penny. You only have to turn on the telly or tune into the radio to hear that this or that planet can be currently seen in conjunction with Elvis going into the pub for a pint of Palmers  Tally Ho! or that  Cassiopeia has been spotted, romping hand-in-hand through the meadows with Shergar . But I like to think that perhaps the magic of the Supermoon has rubbed off on mobile phone coverage in the village. Because I can suddenly get four, wonderful bars inside my thick-walled house. Previously, I had to balance on a chair, breathe in deeply, stand on tiptoes and hold my mobile phone up as high as I could in the corner of the conservatory to get a chance of any signal at all. This means I can now receive texts at home. Which would account for Arty chasing her tail today - I'd forgotten that my text notification on my...

There is something very special about sailing around the Ionian islands . I'm a reluctant sailor. I scare easily and would rather be attached to the earth by an invisible umbilical cord than be immersed in the wine dark sea. But there is much to be said for bobbing gently around at anchor in a secluded bay, with only cicadas for company during the daytime and a family of five large owls at night. Sleeping by the light of a supermoon on midsummer's eve... ...and waking up to a Homeric dawn... This sun and moon, this sea, these mountains, these islands, they all connect us to the magical and lyrical but brutal times of years gone by. You just have to close your eyes to re-emerge in the age of myths. It is there in your head, in your heart. You just have to believe. The ancient, mythical past is all around us, in place names like Ithaca, in ancient ruins of temples to the gods, in our offerings of broken pottery on the mantelpiece, a gift to Hestia, the goddess ...