Springtime for J

Friday morning. Wonderful fresh air, springtime  sun, the streets full of people and children all dressed in happy colours, long white legged girls, life is coming back to the city. The winter is over, hungry young pidgeons and exotic birds are busy courting on the fig trees in front of my window.

I am re-reading Xenophon and endless petty wars of the Greeks. Near the end, only one thousand Spartans (of the officer class, mistranslated) remain, spread as harmosts (governors) in one hundred islands and mini-republics. One asks a Spartiate, Tell me, how many are you? He answers: Enough to reject people like you.