I walked the circular path, high in the forest, in the company of numerous small bright butterflies. Some of the rocks are still wet, smells of pine and resin. The valley keeps the moisture of the Gialias River that runs through it rendering it fertile and evergreen. The blue of the sea faintly appears afar. The valley, resembling a green tear, is surrounded by the ochres, pinks and deep greens of Troodos.
