Saturday, December 31, 2011

Only One Bird at Fraser's Hill

I admire people and their great works, and that often inspires me, hence I visited Fraser's Hill, a dwelling place of over 270 species of birds, recently. 

It was seven in the next morning, 15 degree C, drizzly, windy and foggy when I was wandering around. It was quiet, and I was alone.

Birds of Fraser's Hill are over 270 species, I reminded myself. But then only one representative greeted me in the whole morning, the rest might be busy preparing for Christmas. They deserve holiday as we do, I thought.

The photography session proceeded on a flowering plant near the ground, simply because my gears never match those that professional bird watchers used to carry. 

The bird tried its very best feeding on nectar in different positions in order to satisfy my need, not to mention many other interesting plays that were wasted due to my inadequacy. It must have met many similar dummies before, the routine was continued until I had had enough.

History of Fraser's Hill can be traced back to more than one hundred years ago, birds of Fraser's Hill are over 270 species, somehow I was saved from the embarrassment of leaving without shooting a bird. 

Thanks for your sacrifice, my feathered friend- a grey-breasted spiderhunter.

Happy New Year to you.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Watch, and Being Watched

"When I am old, I just want to rest in peace."

"No more bloody alcohol, no more unplugged rap, and no more aerobatic flights in between fingers."

Somehow, things can never come in control, even after the death of a mosquito.

But when a spider is seen jumping away, coming back, and at the same time involving all its eight eyes in analyzing me, and all these repeat for many times, I understand that the dead body serves very good as a bait. 

But then could I be a bait too?  While I am  watching at them, am I monitored by someone else? 

"We may seem lonely, but will never be lonely. Thousands of hidden eyes, 24-hours a day, 7 days a week, are looking at us, secretly." The mosquito would rap if it can.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Mengkuang Dam

Has Nature ever been shocked seeing wrinkles on her face? It is somehow not answerable, but I find her in different faces that look familiar, but never be exact.

Sometimes a tint of orange and pink is used in the makeup, a neutral colour with bright reflection in some moments, she also covers her face with a layer of white veil when the veil is available; she has unlimited ways to keep her beautiful and charming, but has Nature ever been shocked seeing wrinkles on her face?

The use of cosmetic has been known since antiquity, she applied, and she cleansed, and all these repeated with improved formulations, but has Nature ever been shocked seeing wrinkles on her face?

Whenever she was shocked, I know, we should have been shocked, in an amplified magnitude.

Monday, December 12, 2011


Was the night quiet when a lunar eclipse took place? Might it be just one of the ordinary nights to the critters in the jungle.

The traces of evident in the morning talk. 

All the harp strings were broken in the night of the concert. And all critters got completely soaked in the rain; the wetter they were, the hotter the atmosphere, and the longer the night lasted.

A careful search see an exhausted spider sleeping very soundly nearby. A curtain is indeed not required. A pillow is indeed not required.

The bed that makes me feeling dizzy tells me that the spider is still dancing a waltz, in a dream, and is still excited in the dream.

Did the lunar eclipse mean something to the spider? Or could the night be a birthday night to the spider? Anyhow, that must be a splendid concert.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011


Moss is a weed in grass lawns, and grass is a weed in where moss dominates. 

While mosses often grow on substrates, they never dominate by being parasitic. They are nothing great, but their tiny leaves work hard to absorb water and nutrients, which are in turn converted into food in a photosynthetic factory, a factory that I would like to, but can never visit, or take photographs.

Mosses do not bear flowers and fruits. They are simple, yet aesthetic, and mysterious in a close-up. I can get lost in this "mossy forest" if I am an ant, whilst a real ant can never.

What if I write them as mossssssssssssssss? Does this look like a clump of moss?

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Mantis, A Legend

For some reasons, a little mantis had never left a same place for three weeks, be it stormy or sunny, day or night.

A woman climbed up a mountain and watched the South China Sea at every sunrise, in anticipation of the return of her husband. But she fell ill and died after years of waiting. 

She turned into a stone that continued watching the sea and waiting for that day. This is the legend of Mount Kinabalu, that of the tiny mantis must be as great. 

But I took advantage to make the mantis my model, before it became a stone.

I had ample time for many trials and errors, and many decent shots. 

The mantis was disturbed by my camera flash, and reacted terribly in such a way that saw it posing like a professional; that was great!

I felt so great too!! (I put three extension tubes, 36mm, 20mm and 12mm, onto my Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 macro lens).

That was cruel, and yet the world is cruel. People take advantage whenever circumstances allow. Be you a mantis, a mountain, a stone or else. I am but as cruel.

The mantis transformed from black to green in the fourth week, before turning into a stone.