I'Ve Known Giants

Greece is so often imagined as a place of sand, sea, and endless blue horizons. What I did not expect—what left me quietly undone—was the grandeur of its mountains. Driving through the central and northern regions of Greece, I passed sunlit citrus groves and deep coniferous forests, winding my way along narrow mountain roads toward Trikala, in the region of Thessaly. The landscape grew increasingly rugged, ancient, and immense, until I finally arrived in Meteora—fittingly translated as “suspended in the air.” There, monasteries rise improbably atop towering natural pillars of stone—known as the Columns of the Sky. From the valley floor, colossal sandstone giants thrust upward through dense forests, creating a scene so otherworldly that, had I not witnessed it myself, I might not have believed it existed. Some landscapes do more than impress; they forever alter you. This kind of beauty stays with you. There is a palpable sacredness in these mountains—a quiet gravity that humbles the body and steadies the mind. The climb to the monasteries is steep and demanding, each step earned, and each one rewarded: sweeping views, profound stillness, and the grounding aroma of church incense carried on cool mountain air. I’ve Known Giants opens with sun-warmed citrus of bergamot, bitter orange, and green mandarin—lifted by a gentle touch of holy basil (Tulsi) and hints of lemon blossom. At its heart, a coniferous forest unfolds: Greek pine, cedar, and fir standing tall and resolute. Settling into the base, something deeply grounding emerges—frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, poplar bud, orris root, sandalwood, and warm musks—echoing prayer-warmed air, sacred smoke and the hush of holy places.