Annalise Falzon

What remains.

 Have you heard of the new fad?

The miracle golf, the dumping at sea, the valleys that cease to be.

Speechless I stand.

What is happening to our land?

Stuck on a conveyor belt going round and round.

Aimless wandering - I try to break free

Searching for the wilderness, the hidden corners

The expanses of karstic landscapes, the forest remnants.

But just that word I find – remnants.

Nothing else.

Remnants of what once was – the woodlands, the aromatic thyme, the clear depths of the sea, the meandering valley, the wild rocky boulders, the lush maquis.

Instead I bump into yet another concrete wall, yet another shattered valley, yet another unnerving project.

Blinded we walk on.

The bulldozer rams head on.

Little creatures flee in fear.

The cold machine brings a shudder to the land.

All cleared, all gone.

Is this what we will be responsible for?

The artificial greens will make us forget the garrigue,

The flattened valleys will make them look so clean

As we look for the horizon the new islets at sea will pop up to break the scene.

Will we be able to roam anywhere free?

Free from the ugliness, the shabbiness, the urban distractions, the thwarted landscape, the tortured wildlife,

And the cold, cold reminder that we live so crowded.

Deciding on our environment today creates the remnants of tomorrow.

What would you choose?