I am a small pebble

"The more he seeks to rise into the height and light, the more vigorously do his roots struggle earthward, downward, into the dark, the deep - into evil."

Miniature mushrooms are given no time advantage to pursue the same challenge, both skyward and earthward. Strategically they go radiant, their beauties ripple the blogosphere, their traits travel eastward, westward, northward and southward.

I remain at the centre.

I am a small pebble.

Yin And Yang

So mushrooms are mushrooms, and we are ourselves. No war or domination.

Mushrooms focus on mushrooming in a mazy manner, one short life after another, with or, for most of the time, without limelight.

I enjoy searching them regularly, shooting their macro views, and boosting our relationship, though it seems superficial enough.

Thus wild returns to the wild, civilized continues to boost around.

Yin and Yang forever complement each other.

World Domination

What if mushrooms dominate the world? Their superiority will prevail. Every nook and cranny will be stuffed with their hyphae.

When we think the reign of mushrooms is well over, they will sneak back under the cover of darkness.

When we think their life is short, they propagate faster than we can think. Our bodies and faces will be colourful with a variety of mushrooms mushroom prosperously.

What if mushrooms dominate the world?

Change will continue, either towards our favour or vice versa.

Walking CCTVs

Ants are walking CCTVs, they scurry  across multi-dimensions, and spy on every action made by mushrooms, so much so the latter get very annoyed and lose their patience, "they send up more mushroom periscopes into our world to seek new thrones to conquer", but the mission is far too premature. 

Though tiny and hidden, because I am well informed and prepared, these mushrooms are now held as prisoners of war in my memory card.

  

The ants have saved mankind and our civilization!

The age of mushrooms does not realize. World history is not changed.

Life Waveform

I believe in the existence of fourth dimension, where mushrooms hide in the dry seasons. 

How crazy I am to have a bee in my bonnet,  the mushrooms remain silent, silent and absent, except for the big black ants. But they are too busy to bother about my presence. 

A heavy load their pencil, they are creating a waveform of their life, though I am only seeing a moment.

The ups and downs of the pattern synchronize with their rises and falls on the slope. 

I am a minute dot along the waveform, though very big body size as compared to theirs.

Tech-Savvy

Web construction involves millions of webmasters in the forest is overwhelming. The power of WWW is as explosive as a nuclear bomb.

Thus I see a webmaster is expanding its complicated but beautiful website. "I want more traffic!"

News spreads, and enthusiastic visitors are attracted and get addicted. 

A butterfly who is one of them, ends up spending its life with an open web forever.

It used to feel proud as a tech-savvy butterfly.

Webs

Always hearing about web and its total power, my enthusiastic mushroom friends find themselves so overwhelmed one morning.

They are standing right below a variety of webs: some spiral outward like spokes on a wheel, some look like funnels of doom or harps, while others run thin strands parallelly.

These are beautiful but never catch their eye.

These mushrooms want to know more about me, yet struggle with the webs.

"Is a start button required?"

Flower Thoughts

There are tears of sadness and, ironically,  also tears of happiness. They can be salty or plain taste.

Raindrops are tears of flowers. While overloaded, being magnified but indecisive are grace or sorrow.

But the power of tears enlarges the finest beauty of flowers.

Final Moment

A flower felt very fabulous one whole night, and so carried along by great tides, high, so higher and so low.

It lived in a long dream; long but with an ultimate end which was not known when it would be.

Then it ended regretfully, left behind imprinted memory of struggling separation of the flower from the plant; a difficult and torturing process.

Wind blew, the flower flew from sight, and diminished.

My mom has passed away peacefully last Sunday morning.

Mother and Son

A mother mushroom and her son are seen both lying in embrace in a warm morning. This is one of the serene scenes that mushrooms have exhibited, but leaves fall and flowers wither, where will the mother and son be then?

Are there any hospitals in their world? ICU? Doctor's cruel diagnosis as in mine?

These are surely helpless scenes if there are any, and always be the most difficult parts of our journey.

(My mom has been suffering from pneumonia for a month)

July Symphony

I walk into one Saturday of July, a morning of sunshine mingled by the breeze, and everywhere are the pulses of life eagerly to mark their presence. 

Hello here and there, they shout silently, auto focus and clicking of the shutter interweave symphonically. 

They are different, they are same; They are mushrooms, they are new sprouts; they are the dancing morning spirits looking for a peaceful piece of wonderland.

I love this Saturday morning.

A Monkey's View

It is magnificent to view the Earth from a far distant star.

"It is magnificent to explore a leaf up-close; giving it a shine of morning sun, the leaf just displays what is the glory of beauty." The jungle screams what a monkey screams.

Mushrooms show off in the sound of silence, monkeys the opposite way. My camera has all these been translated. 

This mighty camera will be able to understand the gigantic black hole one day. And the hole will shine.

Happiness Acquisition Syndrome

Looking at the old photographs, I know I have many happy days which are not less than the number of mushrooms in my many posts.

These mushrooms are beautiful and that reflects my emotion so right. A camera is always too heavy to get lifted in the hand of a sorry man.

And there are no signs of any struggles before, during and after I have clicked repeatedly nowadays. 

I wonder this is a sign of Happiness Acquisition Syndrome.

Glasses of Mushrooms

Any species of mushrooms are never annoying when staying in groups. They do not complain, get rowdy or be rude like us.

I always never avoid but would squad beside them, spending minutes trying to visualise them.

We all have our differences, but deep down, I learn to know, we are the same. Our life is a gift of beautiful surprises.

And they surprise me this time when I find mushrooms of both pictures are actually different, though they are equally good to serve wine.

Good Morning

Last Saturday was my off day. I woke up at three o'clock in the morning, and it was four, then five.

I cleaned myself up at six thirty. 

Cerok Tokun, good morning.

Mushrooms, are your biological clocks as worn-out as mine and do not "tick-tock" accordingly anymore? Did you sleep well last night? 

Do you always look forward to off days? 

Surprises take place just beside us, but they are usually overlooked.

Mushrooms, sun never gets old to rise, but I wonder whether you are able to translate a horsefly into a silhouette in direct sunlight.

Blogging friends, Mushrooms and Me

It has been hot and dry in the last two months; all smart mushrooms except those that are pent up in my archive have chosen to migrate to some unknown places.

Finding no friends to talk to, my camera has been unhealthily mum and stupid. A camera learns through talking, not listening. 

Mushrooms in the archive and my blogging friends are alike. They are forever young.

The cheerful words and broad grins of friends do not grow old in my long memory lanes.

Moreover the same profile photo through all the years always reminds me about this. 

No worry. Me too.

A Mushroom's Bird's-eye View

"Why are you perching on a high branch?"

"Naughty wind sent me here."

"You have nearly been neglected."

"That's why these vibrant orange fruits persuaded me to cling close to them."

"How do you feel up there?"

"I enjoy the bird's-eye view.

You photograph my cousins; I count your sparse white hairs. They are as many as the pictures you have taken."

A Fat Caterpillar

After more than six years of indulgence in blogosphere, I am certainly more resourceful than I think while mingling with mushrooms, trees and critters.

A caterpillar is more capable than me. 

It experiences rather than imagines more life cycles, especially the caterpillar and the butterfly  stages. If every footprint a story, it should have tonnes of stories for its  blog update.

But this is not true for a rainbow coloured caterpillar today.

Having chewed a big breakfast, it has to stay as still as a mushroom, in order not to bruise its lower body which is now touching the wood.

Having too many big meals, I shall tell only stories of my tummy, for my eyes will not see my toes.

Spider, mushroom and me

I find a friendlier spider who has had its breakfast, and is now relaxing in a beautiful morning and in a golden-ray moment. 

Breeze stops blowing, and the spider is posing for me. How lucky I am to be in the right place at the right time.

Happily I take my best shots. Happily I enlarge them in the screen looking for the sexy eyes of the spider.

Oops, something is not right. 

My so called friend did not even bother look at me right from the beginning.

I hear a mushroom giggling, so hard, until it breaks its body.

**Happy Chinese New Year to everyone**

Mind Theater

Oops, I haven't made any appointment. This unprepared spider never seems to stop knitting in preparation for its breakfast. Photography opportunity? Not its business. A blog update? Not its cup of tea, or bottle of Cola.

But after years of friendship which is hard to leave, and impossible to forget, mushrooms are always ready.

They pose elegantly, magically and, as a result, they are hallucinogenic, especially in pictures.

They are irresistible, and are always played in my mind theater in which Superman appears only during commercials.