As an American, we cannot have the appreciation of what World War Two actually cost.  Not in terms of dollars but in terms of lives, freedoms, sacrifices. We don't fully understand what was at stake.  We may have family that served during that time or sacrificed with rations, but it did not affect us the way it affected those living in areas that were invaded or bombed.  Malta was the most bombed place during that time.  It was a key spot in the Mediterranean for resupplying troops, planning, and mounting counter offenses. The Romans knew it was important, the Ottomans wanted it, Napoleon prized it.  At one point, the island was in danger of starving and needed to be resupplied.  An aircraft carrier, a dozen merchant ships and just as many navy vessels embarked on a daring run to the island.  Only 5 of the merchant ships made it.  They were bombed, torpedoed, attacked all along the way.  This supply allowed Malta to keep fighting and eventually allow the planning and execution of D Day from the Lascaris War Rooms.




 

 

We walked down the path to a tentlike structure.  The sun heated the stones all around us drenching the landscape with light.  The bright azure sea provided a cool backdrop to the otherwise tan landscape.  Showing our ticket at the entrance, we made our way into the enclosure.  Small lizards darted past us. Dust was kicked up by our feet and it felt like we became part of an archeological dig.  We stepped through doorways of stone, alters with designs came into view. Passages to other part invited us to explore. Views of the sea peaked through.  Immense stones as lintels to doorways stood for thousands of years and we walked under them.  This place was built before the pyramids, before Stonehenge, before metal tools or wheels.  The large stones were chipped, dragged, shoved into place.  We think we can do so much because of all the knowledge and tools we have and there are things that are remarkable that we have built yet I find this place even more outstanding because of the things they didn't have. I look at the way this was built with stones overlapping stones so that weight keeps them from collapsing. It reminds me of building with Legos as a kid and learning how to place blocks for the roof and not have it cave inwards.  Then there are the designs decorating the block.  It tells me that though something is utilitarian it can be beautiful as well.  That we have something in us that wants beauty and function.  The conjecture is that some of it is a calendar but how it works they don't know.  Still, it is done with beauty.  Statues have been found and there is this talent to be admired. There were artisans then that could see something in the stone and shape it.  As we left this ruin and walked to another, I processed what I had seen.  The next ruin was similar, reinforcing my thoughts.  I started to wonder, what happened to these people?  They were artistic, analytical, dedicated, builders?  These temples were created with care.  How does something like that get forgotten, covered by time and then rediscovered thousands of years later? Did this group sail away?  Were they taken away? Did they flee? Or did they die out? It makes me think about now and the future.  Will our cities one day be covered by time only to be rediscovered later?  There are towns now that are "ghost" towns yet they will not stand as long because wood rots and falls apart.  Stone lasts, but still it will wear away given the time. As we walked away, we thought and talked pondering so much about humanity, about ourselves, about our faith. I guess that is what travel does, it makes you take a breath, learn, explore and question. This was just day one of our trip and yet I had so much more to discover.

 Slipping my headphones on at work, I started up the chocolate grinder and pushed play on my phone app.  The words in my ears were unfamiliar.  The sounds of the letters together were difficult for my tongue to turn over.  I grated the chocolate speaking the words out loud over and over again. I was determined to learn something of the language.  10 words was my goal.  Polite words that I could use when asking for directions or ordering a coffee. My coworkers understood and let me ramble as I practiced these "essential" phrases over and over again.  I practiced them as I vacuumed the house and scrubbed toilets.  My brain felt like mush.  It was hard to retain what I had learned.  How could these simple phrases take so long to remember.  I really didn't need to learn these words since they spoke English and it was an official language used by everyone. However, for some reason I was drawn to learning and using this older language of the people.  It is made up of a conglomeration of languages, Arabic, Aramaic, Italian, and a few others.  The letters are 26 but in reality, there are 30.  I struggled to remember them but a few stuck, thank you very much was one of them; Grazzi ħafna. Our first morning, we took a tour and then climbed a lookout tower.  The sign in the tower asked for a small donation and as we slipped a few coins into the box, I used my Maltese phrase "Grazzi ħafna".  The attendant looked up from his reading as I walked out the door and asked if I was Maltese?  Laughingly I said no, encouraged I tried it again and again over the course of two weeks. I added new words to my small but growing vocabulary each time I talked to someone from the island. What I learned was not so much the vocabulary but how it opened doors to conversations.  Each time I was asked, why do you know Maltese? It was a surprise to them and encouraged them to talk about their language and their lives. Each time they wanted me to learn another expression, sometimes it took, sometimes it didn't but it was always fun to try. Then there was the fact that they had different English sayings. Some of the expressions in English that was used were "Let me tell you," and "Do you understand what I am saying".  Sometimes they interspersed their English words with Maltese words that may have been Italian in origin such as "Allura" meaning naturally or then. When we crossed to Gozo we learned that their dialect was different from Maltese.  Words that I had learned in Malta now had a different pronunciation in Gozo thought they are only 15 miles apart.  With a smile, I was still encouraged to try out words there and they corrected my pronunciation and sought to teach me even more words. My hope is that though I may never be back to Malta, I can retain a bit of what I have learned, that key phrases open doors to practicing which encourages conversations.

We bought a sailboat; half a sailboat!  I am still shaking my head over this.  It wasn't on my radar at all.  So in an effort to understand how this came to be I am revisiting the past, the far past.  Tracing the line that lead us to this moment.  While John was single but dating me, he spent a week aboard a sailboat cruising the San Juan Islands with some friends.  They had their skipper license and would charter a boat every summer and they still do but to more far off places than are local archipelago.  He loved it but there was much wind and they ended up motoring more than sailing.  He also tried windsurfing along the Columbia River.  When the kids were young we sailed with another family to Sucia Island for the day.  I was a bit nauseous and so stayed on deck even though it was cold. John also grew up with motorboats and we had two while the kids were growing up.  Both were pieces of junk but they got the kids onto tubes, skis, and wakeboards so that was perfect. By being a bit of junkers we weren't worried about rips or tears in the vinyl, we could just concentrate on fun until the boat didn't run, which actually did happen with each boat.  That's why we had cell phones and paddles.  Anyhow, we have been boatless for a few years now.  John bought a motorcycle and we often ride that in the evenings exploring our county roads and getting lost.  He started looking for another motorcycle and each time I thought this one was it, but he needed to think on it and time would pass, the motorcycle would be sold.  I thought we'd try van camping.  We love to hike and camp, but the idea of driving up to a spot, and camping in a dedicated camper van was appealing.  I envisioned crossing the country and seeing all the national parks this way.  It may still happen, it just isn't on the immediate horizon.  During the summer we would put our kayaks in the water at Drayton Harbor or at Marine Park, paddling near shore enjoying the view and wildlife.  Then this summer we took a sunset cruise on the Schooner Zodiac out on Bellingham Bay with friends and it was beautiful.  We started talking and these friends have a sailboat.  Very much smaller than the Schooner Zodiac but a cruising boat none the less.  They were talking about selling it.  I looked at John and told him we should buy it.  Many of the things I say are more fantasy than reality.  The idea of a sailboat is appealing but really, we were on another path.  We met for drinks enjoying a sunny afternoon at a brewery and it came up again.  Laughingly I said we were all in.  Another dinner with them and an offer of a sail.  A beautiful day, lunch on the boat, a light breeze and were out of the marina cruising the waters on the bay.  A few porpoises leaped, a seal popped it's head up, the wind in my face and the quiet.  I closed my eyes and soaked in the sun.  My scopolamine patch firmly fixed to my head just behind my ear.  I looked over at John and we were hooked.  So instead of buying the boat outright, we asked if they wanted to co-own with us for the following reasons.

1) Splitting the costs such as repair, maintenance, insurance, registration, slip fees and such.

2) We could continue to keep in this marina.  There is an 8 year waiting list.  

3) We would learn from and alongside another couple.

4) Also a boat should be used and there are plenty of days in a year for four people to be able to use and share a boat.  How many days would overlap?  That is a question that will be answered in this coming year.

The check was written and we have begun to climb all over the boat.  Learning about propane tanks for a heater and stove (which does not yet exist aboard the boat).  How do you put gas in the tank? Where do you fill and drank the water?  How does a composting toilet work? What are the parts of a sail? How do you take a dog when sailing? These and many more questions are going to be answered.  The first part is with a few books.  I've signed up for an all women's one week sailing course in the summer.  Hopefully preceded by a sailing course in the Sea of Cortez.  I'm listening to podcasts, pinning articles on Pinterest, reading sailing guidebooks and stories, watching YouTube videos.  I am determined to love this adventure and so dream building has ensued.

Taking photos is all about light, using the available light, manipulating it, or creating it.  Some of the best learning I have done is to choose a type of light and photographing it.  Whether that light is front light, side light, or back light.  A technique that artists have used and we continue to use is called chiaroscuro.  It's the way an artist uses the strong contrast between light and shadow.  Think Cezanne, Vermeer, Caravaggio, Gerard van Honthorst.  This blog post by Pooky.com has a great explanation of it.  As a photographer I am a student of light and creating dramatic light is one thing I am striving to hone.  Since many of the Masters of Art painted still life and crated this dramatic effect, I can use their same technique only with a camera instead of a paint brush.  They didn't become experts in a day and there was trial and error.  They painted and repainted and learned.  Same for me.