Clouds of starlings weaved through the air like mythical beasts, and silvery grey cows patrolled the grasses with their mostly brown and black herd. I learned today that the Greek border is two hours and twenty minutes away from my front door— a fact that I must certainly take advantage of someday. I often found myself gazing at the hills on the horizon with excitement today, knowing that if I walked a little bit further, just past the river, I would be somewhere completely different. Bells instead of the azan, gyros instead of döner...
We found a few thousand swans (Mute, Tundra, and Whooper) in boisterous conversation, floating among the flooded fields— but alas, not a goose in sight. Not one! This delta was supposed to be full of geese at this time of year. Soon, the reason for their absence became clear: hunters. We couldn't drive a kilometre without passing a vehicle of men in camouflage with shotguns.
Those geese were probably in Greece, where the wetlands are protected.
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