I really enjoy settling into the natural rhythm of wherever I find myself. Turn off Chicago. Turn off America. Tune in to what’s around me.
It usually takes a few days, but I’m good at it. Good enough to mistaken for a local in places like Paris and Berlin. Nothing better than being asked for directions in the native tongue.
Greece was one of those places very easy to settle into. I was walking along one of the little bays on the island of Mykonos early one morning when I spotted an old Victrola on a table outside one of the shops. It was probably at least 60 years old, but somehow it felt anything but out-of-place.
I imagined tuning into whatever music may have been played on it over the decades. Competing with the gentle rush of waves on the shore. I realized I had been standing there with my eyes half closed for a few minutes listening to the music that wasn’t there before I even thought to take out my camera.
And now when I see this photo, I can still hear the music. And the waves.