ascend to Ida

Hot summer day on the Aegean coast…

All you can hear at Ida (Kazdağı) in these hot summer days is the constant buzz of bees and the collective singing of crickets…

As we slowly ascend the winding roads of Ida Mountain, I am feeling sort of lightheaded and a little concerned about my body’s reaction to our constant rise. I supply my body with water as my eyes bath in the luminescent green surrounding our little moving company. We are now in Ida Mountain National Park and heading towards one of the peaks called “Sarıkız”. Initially I am not so excited because all I expect to see is an endless sea of pine trees, in different lengths and shapes…this geography is dominated by olive and pine tree, at least I thought so. Sometimes I miss the diversity of trees, tall and big trees, deep and cool shades of a dense tree population. However as we continue our ascend, after a certain height, I sense a difference: a lightness, a sharpness, a clarity suddenly settle around us. I am not even sure whether the flora changed around us or not. Yet I am eyes wide open and soaking the magic, forget my lightheadedness. This is such sheer beauty that my spirit expands out of the little cramped car into the wilderness.

When we come to a stop finally at Sarıkız and stumble out of the car with thrill, I feel as light as a butterfly. Is gravity perhaps less at the heights? Is there more oxygen? Not only do I feel light, I also feel peace and joy spreading through my being. Then we start our walk towards the peak, the sacred ground for mythological Sarıkız. By now the soil is rough, rock formations and little bushy plants replace the forest. A thousand butterflies are flickering around. A wild bird soars in the horizon, perhaps a buzzer. I am not walking, I am floating through the air. The air is thin. My spirit soars high along with the buzzer. When the road ends and little path to Sarıkız shrine unfolds before us, I take my shoes off and touch the ground carefully. I feel I belong to this place, I feel I have been here before, it is like coming home. I want to arrive to the shrine barefoot with respect to Sarıkız and full contact with earth.
Slowly I make my steps, feeling the rocks, earth, little mossy plants, thorns under my feet. I am on a pilgrimage. The wind is strong, forcing me to remain steady on my feet. There is an incredible view beneath me, Aegean sea with its entrancing beauty, home to islands, fishes, mythology, gods and goddesses, cultures as old as history…I greet Aegean and continue my climb.
On the top…wind, buzzer, forest, rocks. Stillness. I take my seat at the edge of the cliff and listen to my friend who tells us the story of Sarıkız.

“Sarıkız was a beautiful young woman living in one of the villages in this area. She was so beautiful that all who see her would be enchanted by her beauty. Someday a rich man in the village wanted to marry her. However she was young and she did not want to marry him. With the rage of rejection, the rich man unleashed a gossip about Sarıkız in the village. She fools around with men, he said, she is no good. When the gossip spread through the village, her father was reminded of the tradition: he had to kill her to save the honor of the village. Desperate by his fate, the father took Sarıkız into the depth of Ida taking their swans with them. Once at the peak (where we are now) he told her what he was about to do. They cried, they embraced. Loving father realized that he couldn’t take her life; so he killed a swan, dipped Sarıkız’ shirt into its blood to take as a proof to the village. He left her there and went back to the village. Sarıkız remained there with her geese and later it is told that she became some kind of saint with supernatural powers…”

Just being there, in communion with nature, I suddenly sense Sarıkız is the mother earth. It is the deep feminine. Sarıkız is a translation into Turkish culture…no wonder, I think, I feel I am home!