In Paris, I had a small garden and in Amsterdam a rooftop terrace, but I never dared to grow roses. That only happened in Lesvos. But I didn’t have a green thumb, even though the roses in front of the house fully bloomed this winter in protest that I spent some time in the Netherlands for cancer research. Only when they had finished blooming did I return, and they later rewarded me with a meager spring blossoming.

Roses are as old as the world. Of course, their origin is explained by Greek myths. One version tells of Aphrodite kneeling by her dying lover Adonis, wounded during a bear hunt. From the tears she shed and his blood, blood-red roses emerged, which have since been associated with Aphrodite and love. Cupid, that little angel who loves to play matchmaker, can be held responsible for the thorns of a rose, when one of his arrows accidentally ended up in a rose garden.

I wish there was a myth in which the rose had healing properties, of course against cancer, but stories from the Middle Ages tell only about rose petals that could prevent drunkenness when floated in your wine or make wrinkles disappear.

But they can do quite a bit, those splendid flowers. Like the roses of Pieria that made artists and scientists great. Even Sappho mentioned them in her poems. These famous flowers grew next to the sacred spring of Pieria in Macedonia, at the foot of mount Olympus, home of the Gods. The spring was dedicated to the Muses and the Pierides. These were nine sisters who challenged the Muses to sing the most beautiful songs. The Pierides lost the battle and were transformed into nine different birds.

In those days, you didn’t get cancer but were transformed into plants or animals by the gods. Maybe I’ll return to Earth as well one day. Preferably as a cheerful Greek seagull soaring through the air, so I can continue to satisfy my hunger for freedom, sea, and fish (Yes, I grew up with Jonathan Livingston Seagull).

Orpheus too must have quenched his thirst at the spring of Pieria. After all, he came from the neighboring village of Leibethra, where, according to the stories, he was also buried by vengeful Muses who first killed him. But we all know that his head and his lyre washed ashore here on Lesvos.

Therefore it was Orpheus who inspired the music and lyrical words of Lesvos, at which Sappho excelled. And it was from him that Sappho learned about the roses of Pieria as a source of inspiration for the arts.

All that art and roses has been to no avail. Lesvos is once again in crisis, I read in the newspaper. Because the decimated livestock and the bans on slaughtering and processing milk created a significant gap in the economy. It also seems that the olive trade is not doing well. It is only lazy thinkers who see trains and busses full of tourists passing by all day that believe tourism is the pot of gold and do not believe that the island has any further potential.

They are wrong. Lesvos could even become a ‘beauty’ island. Beekeepers in Sigri and Mandamados not only put their honey in jars but also in various beauty creams, such as those for wrinkles or for aging skin. They just haven’t been discovered by Tik-Tokkers yet! I could have looked like Cleopatra, if that damn cancer hadn’t thrown a wrench in my life.

And then Lesvos is well on its way to become a rose center. Eleni Sivri uses her hundreds of rose bushes at Filia to produce internationally award-winning rose water and rose oil. For this, she uses her grandmother’s recipes and the oldest cultivated roses, Damask roses, which are unbeatable with their strong aroma. Additionally, she produces grape and fig syrup, enriched with the healing yarrow, but of course, you cannot put that in beauty products like rose products.

Anna Liamo Bartling also continues building up her rose farm at Vavios. As a beautician, she knows exactly where the Damask roses come in handy in her products to enhance people’s looks.

If Sappho were alive today, she would fill books with passionate poems about Eleni and Anna and their love for roses and beauty. She would even help them obtain roses from Pieria. I would like to place my bed among all those rose bushes to die amidst the heavenly scent of roses. But a spray with rose water from Filia makes up for a lot.