The falling leaves drift by the window The autumn leaves of red and gold I see your lips, the summer kisses The sun-burned hands I used to hold Since you went away the days grow long And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song But I miss you most of all my darling When autumn leaves...
Taken in 1983 in a village that had suffered an earthquake years before and fallen into decline, would love to have had a drink at this place, only a couple of miles from the ‘tourist holiday spots’.
Shot on slide and scanned, during the 1980’s, all you need now is ouzo and octopus meze
