Bodrum Bodrum

I spend all my childhood summers in Bodrum. My skin dark from spending days in the sun. The salt from the sea forming crusts on my body by the end of the day. The waters are clear. The forests dark and rich. At least they used to be. This summer it all burned down. In 42 degree Celsius temperature, it all burned. The fires kept going for days and days. Some say it was a terrorist act, some a conspiracy for mining permits but at the end of the day, the weather was so hot that the fires took over. It burned it all to the ground. No more pine honey. No more birds singing all the way to the water. My dad, who is 67, said it will not be restored while he is alive. Not in his lifetime. I wonder even if in mine. The loss is painful to my core. I feel it in my bones.