Labrador Park Pt 3
Out of many, this is one of the “Black and White” houses on our little red dot. The name “Black and White” depicted the black painted timber windows & doors and the white color painted walls. Currently, there are about 600 colonial houses scattered around our main island. In the past, it was meant for public servants’ lodgings but these days, these houses are on lease for residential, commercial or F&B usage.
The picture revealed House No 30, Bukit Chermin, which is one of the grandest and largest of the four existing bungalows along Bukit Chermin. Just like the rest, the house is preserved by the URA, Conservation Unit.
However, the old Keppel Shipyard is gone at this time, it was relocated to another part of the island. Now the mangrove is left behind listening up to the tide gushing up and telling the old story of reminiscence.
Strolling along the Coastal Walk in noon time, is hard to find a single soul.
I prefer a leafy sky.
My Friend, there is a nation who feels proud of you. Your unyielding nature makes you look even emaciated. But lanky is not your name. You are not afraid of the cold winter, but you are the first to bloom in spring. The first gentlemen standing on the land dancing fearlessly with spring and a smiling gentleman, I called.
My Friend, you do not mind lying next to the grave, and you do not mind associating with strangers soaking up in holy bath. But you mind only if fall brings you the beauty of grief or sorrows. With your haughty attitude in autumn, I do not ask for much. As maple leaves died out all over the floor just for your tender face.
My Friend, your elegant, free and easy attitude whirling in the wind, bring a pause to my reminiscent for others. But you are so modest, you do not forbid birds and landscape rivals with you on a manuscript and you give way to a painter’s inspiration.
My Friend, you are infamous. You uphold the title of a National Flower and people sing so well of your elegant glory. What else do you lack of? Your distinctiveness, wholesome and noble sentiments put you high up to the zenith. Infact, with your independent personality, praises are to you only a title, but a pursuit in the eyes of others.
Labrador Park Pt 1
A trail to Labrador Park is not my plan. I was there by a tail wind and with some historical stories behind.
To get away from the weekend crowd, Labrador Park is one good choice to reclaim a historic and ship theme scenery. It’s a two-in-one goal! You may like to backpack sunshine and fresh air along while trailing.
Shades and forests are the bodies of this park. There is one side road leading to Labrador Battery at the entrance located at the south tip of Singapore. Labrador Battery is seated within the lush Labrador Nature Reserve.
◄It was one of the coastal artillery armed by the British Army in the 19th century. They defended the western sea and stored ammunitions.►
At the entrance of this leafy road were the wall remains of the old Ford, built around 1886. It was a “stone-faced” sea wall over 6-foot high, passable only by ◄infantry.
And now, you can only hear cicadas calling and the little plants sticking their necks out to welcome you.
Whenever you feel confuse and tire, just remember there is a place for you to de-stress and rejuvenate, and that is Labrador Park !
Recently visited Singapore’s last Kampong – The Surau Kampong. The Kampong is located in Buangkok, nearby the old Woodbridge Hospital which is now known as Institute of Mental Health.
“Kampong” in Malay literally means village. In olden days, Kampong is the main building form before the reinforcement of concrete technology is established.
The common scene in Kampongs during rainy seasons is fun and memorable. Villagers chasing after ducks and chickens, hastening to bring in clothes from their clothes lines to keep away from flood and rain, whilst barefooted kids and dogs hastily fleeing to find their own shelters. Sadly, this amusing scene is a memory of the past in Singapore with the exception for this little last Kampong.
Kampong houses are usually constructed with zinc roofs and timber walls with windows and doors. Floors are usually laid with cement screed and it feels chilling whenever you step on the floor day or night. Leaving each other’s door open is a common sight in a Kampong. That was the trust and camaraderie the villagers had for each other.
Wind charms, tree houses, birds, chicken, ducks, dogs, cats, fruit trees, flowers, make-shift fencing, stand alone post box, shabby toilets, raw and unpolished nature landscapes are the elements of Kampongs.
Smells of chicken poo floating in the air; gecko’s calling; mosquitoes whizzing in your ears; lizards clicking on the wall; cricket’s chirping with their dance; dogs bucking in the night; frogs singing with their orchestra are just part of the calling soul of a Kampong.
The Surau Kampong currently houses 28 families – 10 Malays and 18 Chinese. In time to come, it may not be able to protect its own boundary. As life is impermanent, more than ever in this fast changing Lion City. Before Singapore gobbles up its last village, let’s step in more often to this carefree and slower pace of life as compared to the urban contemporaries.
The afternoon sun brim over the church hall, through the space between the iron railed window grilles. Looking out from the window covered with climbing morning glories, on the old brick wall parked a small mantis.
This mantis is so small and frail, he leaped while the wind blows, picking himself up over and over again against the wind. This garden with a pond is surrounded with fragrant flowers enriched with fertile soil, conclusively with this little mantis who was injured through his fall but never succumb to his collapse.
Friends, your name is “DREAM”
With you, saplings thrive and sprout year after year.
With you, failure is no longer an easy compromise.
With you, the wings of a dream turn stronger.
With you, countenance of the youth loses its silhouette of frustration. The forlorn feels warm in blizzard nights.
This few months, the haze from Indonesia has smog Lion City all over again. Our smoky heart yearns to see the bright sun and flashing star yet and again.
On that day, through my window west direction, my friend finally arrived.
He came from distant lands, dragging along in his left hand layers of thick dark clouds coming from the mountain. Trudging in his right hand a large rainy blow. Standing behind the window, awaken from my sweet drowse, surrounded with the sniff of the immense rain.
With this timely arrival of breeze, I know the rainy season is not far away as it adds ease and bliss to my heart and a little gay.
Friend, your name is “Autumn Rain”.
Faraway overlooking from my balcony, I evidence your arrival. As the Chinese poem said, “ Rain comes from the wind”. Friend, swinging your sleeves left and right, disperses the dense smoke in our city and dispels mist in our spirits.
Rainfall forms A beautiful Autumn.
Your are not just my Friend, you are indeed a friend to this piece of Land.
My friend, with you the land formats the four seasons, farmers gain their autumn harvest.
My friend, thank you for your attention, and thank you for selflessly nourishing this barren land.
Getting up in the dark just to steal a glance of the smile of the Epiphyllum. Then again, was not on time for this happy moment for her glory. Though a little disappointed, but after some thoughts, if the Queen of the Night were to know of my regrets was due to her premature appearance before dawn, guess she may feel more remorseful than me.
The thought of this makes me capture the soft retreat of this unusual moment while I penned down my own chapter of Dances with the Flowers.
While all admire the rarely night blooms of its kind, for the reason it wilthers mysteriously shortly before dawn.
In contrast, when it withers, there was no one to pay her their last respects, as she shrivels, good time is already a past. How often do we praise an aged blossom?
Then, no bloom forever earned our praises.
The moment I pursue this Queen of the Night is going to be eternal, I will never fail to remember the trail. Though she had faded, but the sentiment of the pursuit has just began.
My wife gave me a piece of Pyrite and it was lying on my table for several years. Some believe that Pyrite can bring wealth, but I am sceptical about the effects it can convey.
This Ore resembles gold, but in contrast with gold, it worth a world of difference.
Undoubtedly, in the giant colliery, it is a little guy；an ounce of countefeit gold.
But under the magnifying glass, the landscape of this little guy resembles the outer space, the planet’s surface. The cube itself is a composition of layers of nature’s art works resurfacing in an exhibition hall.