Mdina And A Tale Of An Ancient Seductress

It’s been a while since I’ve taken you with me to roam the silent streets of Mdina at night. I’ve written many a post about her seductive beauty but no matter how many times my feet walk those ancient streets, it seems that I always discover some new charm. From sleepy convents to houses so old that their walls could tell  a thousand tales, each sight is familiar – for I have gazed at these dwellings at least a hundred times; a thousand even.

Yet every time she weaves a new spell, the old seductress. Some mysteries she has revealed, but others she keeps to herself, hiding them in her bosom, for some other visit, for some other walk through the echoing, cobbled streets.

The ghosts of Mdina are always kind – benevolent, almost. And amongst the ghosts walk the shadows of my younger self as countless fragmented memories stir and take form every time I wander through her winding streets. I never know what she’ll choose to reveal, but I welcome them all – these brief glimpses into a long-lost time. And no matter how far away my journey takes me, I know I will always return to this silent city which has seduced my soul.

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As I said at the beginning of this post, I have written about Mdina many times. If you go to my sidebar and click on the label Mdina it will take you to all my previous posts and each one will reveal a little bit of the enigmatic whole. It’s story is so old that I always balk at the idea of trying to write it in a single post and, more often than not, I do not reveal much as the place takes me on unprecedented flights of whimsy every time I venture inside its gates. But I hope that slowly, over time, I will be able to reveal a bit more so that  one day you may  be able to put the pieces together to see the unbroken truth.

 

Photographs of

The Streets of Mdina

May 2011

Reflections in a Convent Door

Reflections of buildings in this convent door in Mdina. The convent was right next to our school and through the inner door you can see a part of the garden and a statue of  Mary looking down benignly at the goldfish pond. I remember the goldfish were really fat  but perhaps it’s not surprising since we were always feeding them some of our lunch.  So many happy memories lie behind that door. So many secrets whispered in the drafty corners. So many friendships forged. So much laughter and, sometimes, some tears.

The school has now moved to more modern premises with larger grounds, tennis courts and even a swimming pool. So the corridors of this old building are now empty and only a handful of nuns are  left to hear the echoes of hundreds of voices and to keep guard over our secrets. And Mary still watches over the pond remembering, perhaps, the girls that fed the goldfish.

A bit of nostalgia today for my Weekend Reflections. Visit James at Newton Area Photo for more Weekend Reflections from around the world.