The stories of my life on a little island in the middle of the Mediterranean sea ... and my occasional adventures beyond these shores.

Monday 16 June 2014

Stories In The Stones

The year is hurtling towards midsummer and I am being dragged along – reluctantly – like an obstinate mule, digging my heels into the earth and uselessly hoping that it will grind to a halt. Slow down, slow down, I whisper to no one in particular, this ride is way too fast. The coachman does not heed my fretful call. I am not in command. I feel giddy, unsafe, trapped in a vortex that is madly spiralling out of control. But through the chaos, a voice bids me to calm down. There is time, it says, time to breathe, time to learn, time to write about the permanence of this transient life. But surely, I thought, that is an oxymoron. Then I reflected; and finally, I understood - that we are all invited to leave an indelible mark. We can write our stories in sand and let the tide wash them away or we can carve them painfully, but permanently, in stone.
Mdina Ditch 094
And I looked around me and saw an island whose history is etched in the limestone blocks of our buildings. The stories of our fathers are intricately bound to the stone walls that surround us. Almost reverently, I reach out to touch their golden faces, gently caressing the marks left by the winds; left by time. I lean forward, let my forehead rest on their pock-marked surface and shut out the world.
Medieval Mdina (79)
Then I hear it, the hum as of a thousand muffled voices, telling me their stories, their triumphs, their tragedies. There were tales of love and despair; of hatred and death; war and disease; of pirate raids and a fervent Faith. It seemed that I had finally understood. This, then, was my calling, to give a voice to the voiceless and a history to the nameless. It was up to me to discover the patina of ages; to unravel the mystery of doors that led nowhere and to tell a tale that would have been lost in the mists of time – were it not for the stones.
Medieval Mdina 089
I smiled. The spinning had stopped. The coachman had finally come to a halt.
Medieval Mdina 033
Location: Mdina - April 2013

14 comments:

  1. Hello Loree,
    Oh what tales these stones could indeed tell.......

    The transience of Life does seem to be ever more fragile as the years advance and we become conscious of the fact that we may have lived more years than there are ahead of us. And how perfectly you capture here the feeling that one wishes to leave a personal mark, a sign that one has indeed lived and contributed.

    But, as you say, the stones which remain will tell their own tale. And so, we must read the stones before it is too late!

    ReplyDelete
  2. You do give voice to these beautiful structures.

    I find myself calling to the coachman to slow down, too :))

    ReplyDelete
  3. Dear Loree

    I am delighted you are the designated story teller and bearer of the news you hear. I feel it is most important that you write yet I know it must not always be easy to grasp the time.
    Your images of Malta show the beautiful light. Thanks for visiting and I plan on visiting Malta and it would be wonderful to see the work of Renzo Piano too.
    Helen xx

    ReplyDelete
  4. Loree - wonderful words and so well written. It is as if I am there with you listening to those muffled voices from years past. What stories they could write - maybe if you listen well you will find their tales and write them down. Have a gorgeous week - and I am glad you are taking time to "smell the roses."

    ReplyDelete
  5. You so remind me of HEATHER at LOST IN ARLES...................
    COACHMAN,slowing down...........yes I can relate to all of that!What beauty that surrounds you!Is there an ugly part of MALTA?I doubt it!
    XOXOX

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sometimes I wish that stones could talk and tell their history !

    ReplyDelete
  7. You capture the history, the marks, and time enduring of these building! They shine with your talented story telling skill!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Wow I LOVE the architecture here, and your writing really brings each picture to life.

    ReplyDelete
  9. ...and this is why so Americans love to travel in countries that are so old. Your words are perfect. The sense of stories, history, marks left by time are so tangible to us. How wonderful to discover that importance on your very own island.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Those stones are so incredibly beautiful and mysterious especially through your words and pictures.

    ReplyDelete
  11. If only stones could talk they'd have so much to relate! As always, a great post Loree!
    Sue.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Loree, I have fallen into a bit of a pickle as Americans used to say in the 30s, meaning a challenging time, so I have not been reading as much of my friends blogs as I would like but I would just have to say that this is so beautiful, as is the simplicity of the list in the following post. Please keep writing - you have a way of expressing yourself that is uniquely your own.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Breathtaking Loree, these stones have a thousand stories to tell. I love the idea of choosing to write our stories in the sand or to carve them in stone - this little line has got me thinking and that is a good thing xx

    ReplyDelete
  14. You're so good with words Loree. And of course, your pictures are always beautiful, always resonate with me.

    ReplyDelete

Thanks for stopping by. I read and appreciate every one of your comments. I will do my best to reply whenever I can.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails