As Explained Elsewhere
A track is usually evidence of passage: something moved here, recently enough that the mark persists. Malta's cart ruts complicate this: grooves worn or cut into the island's limestone, paired tracks that converge and diverge without apparent logic, surviving in fields, on clifftops, beneath roads. No one knows how they were made, or why. The ruts are evidence of a human need to impose lines onto a landscape; but having outlived all memory, they exist now as pure form: lines still legible but no longer readable.