Yiayia's Garden

Nenenin Bahçesi / Ο Κήπος της Γιαγιάς

The afternoon sun spills gold across the courtyard, catching on the folds of Yiayia's apron as she tends her herbs. Across the Aegean, Nene does the same — her hands weathered, patient, rich with memory. Basil leaves release their perfume under careful fingertips, rosemary spills over stone walls, thyme creeps between cracked tiles, and lemon trees whisper above. By the fence, tomato vines stretch tall, their green leaves warm and earthy in the late light. The air hums with quiet life — simmering pots, neighbours' voices, and the scent of love made tangible. This is their garden: two women, two lands, one timeless ritual.