Still life at l-Ahrax

Still life at l-Ahrax

The peaceful view from the cliffs at l-Ahrax tal-Mellieha in Malta’s northern extreme.  The calm blue expanse of the Mediterranean stretching as far as the horizon.  Beyond the horizon, due south, the Libyan coast, some 380 kilometres away.  So near and yet so far away.  Neighbours but a world apart.  Here at the tip of Europe, there at the tip of Africa.

Visibility very clear on the crisp winter day when the photo was taken.  Extending at least twenty five kilometres as evidenced by the Portomaso Tower and other landmarks visible on the horizon.

And the main subject in the foreground: the endemic Maltese salt tree, Darniella melitensis.  The Maltese xebb or sigra tal-irmied.  A scarce plant which is only to be found in the Maltese Islands.  Nowhere else on Earth.  Here and here alone.  A relic which predates the ice-ages.  The only example of the Darniella species to be found in Europe.

A “shy” plant, which prefers to grow in unreachable areas.  Such as the collapsed boulder screes beneath cliffs.  Hence its success in avoiding the depradations of man.    It is perfectly suited for this harsh environment.  A camel of a tree!  Thrives in poor soil, sparse water and harsh winds.  And a good dose of salty sea spray!

More of a shrub than a tree averaging 2.5 metres although larger specimens reaching 4.5 metres have also been observed.  Obviously strictly protected by national legislation.

A beautiful view which cannot be replicated anywhere else on the planet due to this unique plant.

Low winter light at Land’s End

Low winter light at Land’s End

Not in Cornwall but at Qammieh Point, Malta.  The north-westernmost extreme of the island with the cliffs of Gozo silhouetted in the fading light.  A place of peace and solitude where the landscape consists of exposed garigue and is always breezy, even on the calmest of days.   Malta’s Land’s End: the furthest point north away from the urbanised south.

The low winter sun lights the plants from below, as if by some artificial spotlight, making the scene surreal and almost magical. Typical early spring vegetation, foremost amongst which the clump of white mignonette flowering stalks on the left and the giant fennel with its yellow bouquet to the right.

The white mignonette (Reseda alba).  Its Maltese name is the highly descriptive denb il-haruf: the lamb’s tail owing to its similarity to its wooly namesake.  Mignonettes belong to the plant family reseda. Reseda is the Latin word which translates into “to assuage” or “to calm” because these plant species purportedly possess sedative properties.  I do not know how true this claim is, but they definitely have visually calming properties as evidenced by their prominent and beautiful stalks in the photo: standing assertively and proudly but not menacingly.

The relative cold of the Mediterranean winter is slowly phasing into early spring: longer daylight, warmer temperatures and carpets of flowering species.  A short time of transition and beautiful light effects enjoyable for only a few weeks during the year.

Sharks and seashells in my garden

Sharks and seashells in my garden

Yes in my garden.  Strange place to find sharks and seashells.  Not the living kind mind you, but the fossilised remains thereof!

It all started some years ago when I commissioned some excavation works to build a cistern to capture rain water.  Precious water to keep my trees and plants alive during the hot, dry Maltese summer.  As the workmen cut through the solid rock I started noticing a rich variety of fossils embedded in the chunks of rock that were being dug up.  Mostly consisting of the beautiful shells of molluscs, perfectly preserved, standing white against the pale golden limestone.

Then I came across a minute tooth, a shark’s tooth standing there in the rocky sediment and the realisation hit me.  I was standing in the very place where thirty million years previously a shark lost a tooth which drifted lazily to the bottom of an ancient ocean to be preserved for posterity.  I possess quite a varied collection of fossils from all over the world, but none of the fossils in my collection possesses the special link to time and place as this tiny shark’s tooth.

Thirty million years ago there was no Malta.  There was a deep sea in which sediments of dust and dead marine creatures slowly but surely accumulated for some twenty million years until the pressure of Africa crashing into Europe uplifted Malta above sea level.  There was a long period of time when Malta and its sisters were not islands but were linked to the European continental mass via a land bridge with Sicily.  However the rise in sea level brought about by the end of a massive ice age five million years ago made the Atlantic spill into the Mediterranean so that the waters rose and Malta, Gozo and Comino became detached into a separate archipelago.

The patch of land over which my ancient shark swam survived some thirty metres above sea level and eventually came to form part of the tiny garden at the rear of my house.

Today it is very different.  Mature and young trees jostle with plants and herbs to create a small oasis of green . The sea is one kilometre away and down a hill.  My tiny garden is very much a patch of land which is both high and dry.

In spite of this I often marvel at the fact that one day, thirty million years ago, a shark was swimming in what is now my garden and nonchalantly lost a tooth which waited all these long years for me to find and treasure.