Fate brought us back via a lazy Sunday kid martial arts morning to the tiny tucked away village of Zebbug (pronounced Zeebuj) which in Maltese translates into Olives.
As the two older children learned to sit quietly and still, my husband and I wandered the familiar streets, it's been five years since I walked through the tiny alley ways of this hilltop village.
We lived here for a short spell in 2005, in fact that is where my Magpie child was born, at home in a four hundred year old house under an arch carved from Stone.
Today that same Scorpian child turns five. Oh how time goes by - as beautifully put by Souad Massi (whose song helped welcome her into the world).
We found our way along the very same tiny windy road, passed the very same old garden I used to weave stories to little Tano about ..
forbidden still, a forgotten garden, part of a closed up abandoned villa...
forbidden still, a forgotten garden, part of a closed up abandoned villa...
Peering through the gate and wondering this time with little D. ... what games, old fountains, and fancy people once strolled through its grand paths?
Somehow a feeling of peace, to find myself back at it's rusted lock, this time with another child. As if for a very small moment I nodded to the ghost of my pregnant self, she who was jarred by the transition to the small island and at that time terribly lonely in the new surroundings.
A few photos from that time...
*(We lived in Malta for a small window of 8 months before work drew us back to England)
Sorry no Cornerview this week, I will take part again next week.
*
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