The day I have dreaded has finally arrived: my birthday

Trafficking in enchantment, I sailed west to Coronis, the most perfect private isle on this planet. At times I think I’m in the realm of fantasy, such is the beauty of the place, the perfection of its function, yet a nouveau riche, Bezos or Zuckerberg, say, would most likely find it not up to par because of its understatement. The island is greener than green, with olive trees and pines and vegetable gardens all planted by the owners, stone bungalows hidden from view, a great main house even more hidden from view, a discreet beach clubhouse, all in a wholesome, nostalgic setting poignantly evocative of a time before Succession-tinged vulgarity.

I suppose it has to do with the inner harmony of the soul of its owners, what the Ancient Greeks called sophrosyne, ‘a virtue that reveals itself in every action and attitude’.