The Azure Window in Malta Has Gone
Sometimes it’s hard to notice the passage of time, sometimes it’s easy. This is the Azure Window in Malta, a place I visited only a short while ago.
It no longer looks like this. The bridge has collapsed, the window has gone.
Even when it doesn’t feel like it, change is happening bit by bit, one small change after another.
Don’t wait until too many small things have happened.
Notice the small things. They lead to the big ones.
It’s a shorter post than usual, guys, because I’m having something of a rethink of the way I do things around here. So, small in word count, huge in terms of the thoughts that zip and zag and probably zap each other in the face as they hurtle around my mind.
I used to write short pieces. I used to write long, really long, novel length pieces too.
And I haven’t for a long, long time.
This blog used to be my creative outlet. And today I’m wondering, more than wondering, whether or not it has been. For a long, long time.
Does that matter?
Not to the world, perhaps. Nor even to many of you read it.
But I think it does matter to me. Even if that’s the only person it will ever matter to.
And I’m reminded of the quote from Henry van Dyke.
“Use what talents you possess. The woods would be silent if no birds sang except those who sang the best.”
The Azure Window in Malta is gone.
Rock, wearing an illusion of permanence, has been defeated by the waves and their deceitful transience.
I won’t let the same happen to me.
I’ll take the lessons of the waves, learn from mistakes, and weather the damage.
Then the trick of it is to create something of beauty, to leave the window standing. Not to fold beneath the waves.
In the meantime, and on a less cryptic note, I’m off to Norway this week for Lonely Planet. Tune in on all the usual social networks to find out what I’m up to in Oslo. Vikings, The Scream and some urban fjords… I’m getting quite excited ;-)
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