The fields with olives and olive trees, the lush green fog of the morning mist. The quaint touches of Hermes resonating through Appolo traversing with thrift. The city is wild with glee of forest olives poignant. Gallons of ouzo flourishing without liberties. Tantalizing lays still as were idyll pastorals, a prism projecting stochastic eyelids. Most coveted of music an audio engineer could harmonize, a picturesque ecology than all.