In Pierce Reservoir along Old Upper Thomson Road, saw a monkey kneeing along the roadside. His cute appearance looks ridiculous and his gray hair and insensibly manifestation guards at every car that passes by.
He stood up to the body, whenever a vehicle move closer to him as if there is something to look forward from the car. I decline to unwind the car windows, just in case he stuns his“Seventy Two Transformation”. While he waited for awhile and see no movement in the car, he sank back in situ. As I direct my camera towards his direction, he ignore my interest on him and turn his face away from me. He seems to be reminding me for a reward if I demand a snapshot from him.
Reminders have been put up constantly by relevant authorities to the public not to feed wild animals without invalid reasons.
Flora and Fauna in their natural habitat has its own sets of survival skills. Each bodied its own strength and flair. Once the skills are discarded, it relies on external aid to subsist. End of the day, what is remained and reminded is the pathetic vision asking for mercy from our human eyes.
Fortunately, monkeys are delightfully adorable, a few more to come is harmless and undisruptive at least to our very own nature that is loosing out in no time soon.
**There is a belief that the Monkey God has capabilities to do Seventy Two stuns with different transformation.
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.