beaver me

Malta has left so little of its green, “thanks” to their booming property development.
I mean, just on our street there are three new blocks of flats.
One has been trying to sell its apartments for the past three years (since we moved in the neighbourhood).
Another one is half full (or pessimistically – half empty of inhabitants; with “for sale” stickers on the windows all over the building).
And a third one – brand new, how exciting – which is still in brick mode (naked to the bone).
If its owner is lucky to sell anything, the new neighbours will be, literally, stepping on my kitchen counter where I cut my onions, because the building is so close to us.
My son has been watching the beautiful building grow, just like a young and delicate pine tree growing to a strong concrete monster casting shadow on our kitchen table.
And I’m so grateful that my little boy has learned, from a very young age, what a crane is and what a cement mixer is, and where all the African immigrants, who land in Malta, work.
I’m surprised he hasn’t learned to greet them in their native language.
The workers on that last building know my son and daughter and greet each other in the morning.

Anyway, at least we exchange a few words with the builders.
Imagine how boring it would have been if trees were growing there, instead of the block.
What can you say to a tree?
Enough sarcasm, it hurts me.

This post is about green.
If it was about overbuilding and bad architecture, I would have needed a separate blog called “Only in Malta”, which already exists, albeit on generic subjects and not on buildings only.

I miss trees and walking pass green scenery.
So much that my husband rolls his eyes every time because I nag about not having greenery around us.
And I nag when we are among it (wherever we travel).
In short, I nag about trees and grass and forests and green, irrelevant of whether we’re among it or not.
My husband often uses Phoebe’s line, “again with the trees, what are you, a beaver?”.
And we laugh.
Actually, I use the line.
He never says anything.
Maybe even the rolling eyes is my exaggeration.
But he definitely wishes he could roll them!

So, yesterday morning we went for a long jog in the nearby park.
And I couldn’t help but do some running photography.
If there are any specialists in running photography, you’re free to rate my photo 🙂

It was prettier while running amidst this.
I felt like a monkey on a holiday from the zoo.
There was so much jumping in the mud, running and smiling.
I must have looked like a rabbit in a field of cabbage.

Nature beats everything else.
Well, maybe not as much as a hot plate of pasta at Piazza Navona, now that we’re in Rome.
But running in the mud, smelling the damp green leaves, and gazing at the trees revives you.
Simplifies things.
Cleanses you of artificiality and pretension.
Children, especially, appreciate mud, green and nature.
I appreciate the fact that we don’t have much green around us where we live.
It could have been worse – we could have lived in the desert.
Without a kitchen counter and without a kitchen sink.
But I value the fact that we always make an effort to show nature and its green wonders to our kids.
It’s so worth it when you see the little ‘bugs’ running and shrieking with joy!
Like baby rabbits running in a field of cabbage.

One thought on “beaver me

  1. Coming from Ireland, the first things that strikes you about Malta is the lack of green. And in it’s absence, layer upon layer of pretty drab looking apartment blocks.

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