Year 1.”Merħba!”
Dazzled eyes squinting in the sun, rumbling down busy roads lined with ficus and alive with noble cypress and festive oleander. Exploring dense townscapes, a coralline story expressing years of human development… How to know when one life ends and the other begins? Festas, families, weddings, weekends of adventure. Seed carried on the breeze: bloom where you are planted.
Year 2.”I don’t need you; You can go, ta’ “
The stone house has withstood many storms and upheavals, but it’s “rather plain and has no outstanding architectural features”; Discard to make way for a shiny new waterfront restaurant. The orange tree has shared its fruit for years, but economics now allow for a jacuzzi, and the garden is only so big. The intricate rubble walls are now deemed cramped, and the messy bird-filled trees detract from the facade. Yesterday’s common cup has somehow become today’s half-drunken kinnie bottle flying out the car window. Wretched tree: Scrape-off… cut-out… scale-up, move-on.
Year 3. “Vrooom… Click… Buzz… Tap Tap…”
Less discussion, more rumination. Fewer pieces, more peace. Roads are smoother, wider, and more boring. Further and faster travel; fewer and fainter destinations. Just because one can afford to travel alone, doesn’t mean it’s better not to share.