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5:00
Evil-eyed wabbits
Che Kong Temple festival fair
The unexpectedly Zen and Chinese-Japanesque Nan Lian Garden
Chi Lin Nunnery with not a nun in sight
From the top of the (Needle) Hill
12km hillly hike from Fo Tan towards Tsuen Wan
Small fish in small packages
More on Flickr: HK 2011 photoset
9:21
Snakes are, in my opinion, one of natureâs most misunderstood and feared creatures. Nevermind the negative portrayals of reptiles in the movies and their own slithery physical appearances, a more compelling personal reason might be the fact that when you do have the fortune (or the misfortune) of coming face-to-face with a snake, youâll find that youâre unable to read them.
Of course, neither are you able to read other animals (humans included), although you may think that you understand their behaviour. Our interpretations of non-human animal behaviour are contaminated by anthropomorphic biases. But at least you thinking that you do understand them does give you some confidence in your encounters with them.
Snakes however, lacking limbs and physical dexterity, do not have access to a whole host of body languages that we tend to read the others by. Most make no sound, so thereâs another medium of communication gone. Itâs inevitable that you try to infer something through the eyes, but even their eyes betray nothing. They canât move their eyes, they canât blink. They canât sport furtive looks like the lizards do. If the common snakes I come across could be described as having a look, well, they look perpetually angry or shocked. Except maybe the Oriental whip snake, which with its Kermit the Frog eyes looks rather like it has just woken up from bed.
If a snake remains stationary, youâd remain pretty much clueless. It if moves, then thereâs a hint. Some slither away â thatâs self-explanatory. Some, like the shore pit viper, would coil. A S-coiled viper with its intense red eyes trained on you, facing you head-on with its tongue a-flicking is a signal that you may, perhaps, want to move a few inches back. Slowly. The fieldguides say that this species may attack âwithout warningâ. And here â a viper is being considerate enough to give you a warning. Any sensible person with half a wit for self-preservation would take heed!
Itâs not that I, or the naturalist-photographer companions I sometimes find myself in the company of, are reckless beings. Weâre not trying to be gutsy either. We approach all creatures, most of all the dangerous ones, with a great deal of respect. First of all we know what they are, and we know what they are capable of, and we also know that they are unlikely to behave unbecomingly unless provoked. So we shoot, just out of striking range (you can never be too sure though), with a certain primeval sense of caution, which is not quite the same as fear. I believe animals can detect fear as well as they can threats, and would be aggravated by it. Lots of calm, patience and giving the assurance that you post no danger⊠is the way to go, and this is equally applicable when dealing with spiders, lizards, birds and others. When we started photographing this snake, a family was just about to get started on the Route 1 loop in Sungei Buloh. Their 3km and goodness knows how long later (one loses track of the time when shooting), they reappeared from the other side, and we were still with the snake, our configurations hardly changed.
And the largest isnât necessarily the meanest! Three days after shooting the viper, I am still nursing the itch from my scars and my bites, not from the snake (hopefully never), but from comma-sized crazy ants which gave me a good pinching while I was immobilised in my shooting positions. Itâs always perplexed me that if ants wouldnât think of stopping in their tracks up a wooden railing to give the plank a nipping, why would they suddenly want to do so when theyâre crawling up my leg or my armâŠ?
Death stare
16:17
Finally on Saturday, after a long, long time. I missed this place so much.
Highlights were mostly reptilianâŠ
Estuarine crocodile
Juvenile Malayan water monitor
Oriental whip snake
16:13
Highlights from last Friday; it was largely an arachnidful night.
Lynx with spiderlings
Singapore tarantula
Amblypigid / Tailless whip scorpion
Kendallâs rock gecko
16:54
I sometimes wonder what Iâll do if I came across a madman in the forest at night. If he were to become aggressive, I imagine Iâd want to flash him at full intensity with the flashgun, right into his face: HA! I BLIND YOU! Although⊠any form of confrontation probably wouldnât be wise. And some might ask âhow are you so sure that heâs a madman?â and would question what I am doing in out there in dark in the first place.
Those who are used to me would by now know very well what Iâm up to. To the unconvinced, Iâd simply show a pic or two of those glowing green âshrooms and take delight in their whoooas and ahhhhs.
I went to Venus Drive on two consecutive nights this week, after discovering on the first drizzly evening that mushrooms were sprouting in their hundreds from dead logs. I never tire of them. The second nightâs trip was prompted by a more botanical objective in mind, falling short however of being scientific although there was some pretty pretty documentation of fungal spore dispersal in action. I daresay these little adventures of mine are almost becoming acceptable to my parents. Almost. It would be if wasnât the seventh Lunar month, also known to Chinese as the Hungry Ghost Month. The unfortunate and highly aggravating episode of the HK touristsâ hijacking in Manila, and the incident of the falling man which my mom was visually privy to, have signalled to her that perhaps this month is one when us mortals should take more care in where we tread. Brings to mind a similar warning â or plea, even â from an unsettled friend many Hungry Ghost Months ago, when I was shining my torch up into some branches in search of snakes while on some night walk on Sentosa. Yâknow, one of those freshersâ orientation thingys.
Looks like my next trip to Venus â one that would do more justice to my scientific training â would have to wait until this seventh month business is over with. Until then, may some rain and nothing else be with us.
13:50
We bought a sporting kite from the shop at Seahouses. Lovely beaches, strong breeze, deep blue skies, so why not? Had some great fun tagging at the strings after we returned from the Farnes.
Bamburgh, capital of the ancient city of Northumbria, was most famous for its imposing castle. Mucked about on the hills behind the Bamburgh Dunes in the late evening, waiting for the sun to descend behind the castle.
The Holy Island of Lindisfarne is a funny one. Accessible only during low tides, across a motor causeway. We went on Saturday but there were people in their Sunday best, presumably for some important church function or another. The first monastery was founded there by a St Aidan in 635AD, and itâs been the site of Christian pilgrimage ever since. Now the skeletal ruins of the Lindisfarne Priory remain.
It was a few hoursâ drive away from Northumberland National Park . The weather was being miserable, so we mostly stayed in the car, driving along a section of Hadrianâs Wall for a while. Most memorable was the Forest Drive, one of the highest roads in England. We were blanketed by a thick layer of fog as we got to the middle of the forest. Otherwise quite scenic most of the time.
Still misty and grey, we reached the Borderlands. There were two huge boulders marking the English-Border line: on one side was etched âScotlandâ and the other, âEnglandâ. Passed through the Scottish town of Jedburgh and its Abbey before returning southwards towards our lodgings in Belford.
Our adventures in the north being over, we headed London-bound on Sunday, dropping by the City of York. Easily one of the more beautiful cities in this part of England. Gothic architecture melded with Victorian and the modern. Historical town walls and ramparts surround the city centre, much of it still intact and walkable. Plenty of green spaces, and very happy people.
13:06
Finally, after years of yearning. This was a far more accomplishable trip, unlike my other dreams of going to South Africa, Madagascar, South America and the likes.
We made it off the coast from the Seahouses harbour, and spent a good four hours circling the handful of Farne Islands. Thousands of seabirds â gannets, terns, guillemots, cormorants, shags, puffins. Saw colonies of grey seals too. Made a landing on Inner Farne, the largest of the islands. The Artic and Common terns got real close, so close youâd trip over them or get shat on if youâre not careful. Puffins flew clumsily overhead with rows of fish in their bills. They had short fencing and proper boarded footpaths so it did feel a bit like a zoo or a wetland centre. It was amazing out there nevertheless.
4:17
The day after checking my sis into Oxford, we went down to the New Forest National Park last Monday. The deer enclosure there wasnât all that exciting, but the area had some really lovely and calming woodlands, humble little streams, and moors. Managed to sink into some deep thought while dozing on the prickly grass, while wild ponies trotted past.
Wednesday came the road trip proper. With Xi, Kamil, and Randy who was visiting from Holland. On our way up, we passed by the North Yorkshire Moors, a beautiful landscape of heather moorland, complete with grazing sheep.
By the eastern coast was the little civil parish town of Whitby, featured in Dracula, with some well-utilised but clean beaches and rock pools.
It was getting late when we got to Newcastle, so most shops were shut. Grabbed dinner and left; our hotel was an hourâs drive away. Most memorable takeaway phrase from the city were the words on a cathedral banner: âLove good, hate evilâ.
Drove into Seahouses on Thursday morning, where the boats to the Farnes launch from. Skipper says bad weather, sea swells, no go. So to Berwick-Upon-Tweed we went instead, the most northerly town in England. It has seen many bloody battles between the Scottish and the English, but itâs now a quiet seaside town with historic ramparts and town walls and an impressive-looking Romanesque Royal Border Bridge which we then found out was constructed only in 1847.
At the Scottish Seabird Centre in North Berwick, we hung around puffiny merchandise and natural history books. There was another beach and rocky shore, littered with families and screaming children with spades, buckets and nets. Dead jellyfish aplenty, a few teeny crabs and polychaetes in the water. Did jumping-jack remote-controlled group shots on the rocks while the tides came in from behind.
I like Edinburgh. Itâs got a very European feel, and there are pseudo versions of buildings, statues or monuments that they have in London. Very historical. Busiest city weâve visited so far. Scottish bagpipers round the street corner, shops selling kilts, Tam oâ Shanters, sporrans and other Scottish garb. Went past the statue of David Hume with his lucky toe polished to a golden shine by passers-by wishing for some good fortune. Entertained by bubble-blowing buskers in front of the St Giles Cathedral.
15:35
The British transport systemâs a bit of a hit-and-miss, I find. Nothing goes according to schedule and reality never follows the virtual planning that the National Rail website so proudly does for you.
Two destinations down south on Monday; a whole day of travelling.
Ducks, geese and swans at the WWT Arundel Wetland Centre. Something like the London Wetland Centre but with a more rural woodland and Arundel Castle as backdrop.
With a bit of time to spare, we went to Brighton, a very youthful city with an alternative sub-culture. Did the touristy thing, saw the famous Brighton Pavilion and Brighton Pier. I canât say I like this city much; everythingâs so loud.
3:02
Spent hardly an hour in Zone 1 since arriving in the UK on Saturday. Been travelling about, up to Oxford, back into London, south-west to New Forest, back again, and now Iâm more than 340 miles up north, past Newcastle, putting up for the night â and the next few nights â in Belford, in anticipation of some island hopping in the Farnes.
The weatherâs been lovely so far. Everything has been brilliant. Had a reunion with QuGee, ate Nandos, scampi, shot deer and wild ponies, dozed on grass in a moor and had some deep thoughts, strolled about in quaint towns, visited the coast, explored a bit of rocky shore, watched Inception, met up with some really really international friends, listened to the awful Magic and Heart and what have you, was inspired by BBC Radio 4, stepped in sheep poo, travelled through mist at night, got aphid-ised. More to come later, for now Flickrâs the most updated.
19:27
I like to keep my eyes to the ground as I walk from the carpark towards the office. There are, from time to time, interesting things to be seen. Dead things, usually. Like dead shrews and snakes, and sometimes really gross sights.
This is the second common fruit bat (Cynopterus brachyotis) foetus that Iâve come across at the same spot, under the batty corner of the office block where the bats hang from the rooftop ceiling beams by day. Looks freshly-aborted, unlike the first one which was being over-run by ants by the time I got to it.
This oneâs in a more advanced stage of development, somewhere between stages 20 and 22 according to this embryonic development chart. Its placenta is still attached.
Iâm keeping it pickled for the time being, in a vial with it lying on its back and wings outstretched. Kinda brought to mind this series of disturbing images. All dead stuff.
(Keeping images thumbnailed so as not to irk the squirmish!)
5:41
Blackadder:
Weâre in a sticky situation all right. This is the stickiest situation since Sticky the Stick insect got caught on a sticky bun.
A last-ditch attempt to un-pooh another pooh-ey weekend wrought by Things Gone Wrong and emotional hijacks saw brief respite in a night prowl at Lower Pierce last night.
A keen-eyed duck spotted this lichen huntsman with her newly-hatched brood
Huntsman spiderlings snuggling between Mommy Spiderâs legs
These brown stick insects in various instars were found mainly on fish tail palms
Also saw a few of these smaller, green stick insects
Lantern bug nymph; it kept inching to the side and out of sight
Colugo which was scrambling on the branches and rustling in the foliage above us
11:34
On Monday â new grounds for exploration. A bumslide down a slope onto the undisturbed banks of a canal, knee-high vegetation and hidden pits. A little tame on the faunal side, lots of butterflies, skippers and about two dozen species of spiders â the coolest one we found was this dung spider which I overlooked and a colleague spotted.
Concrete divide
Bird dung orb spider (Pasilobus sp.)
Grasshopper nymphs
Lawn wolf spider
Crab-eating frog (?)
17:49
Last nightâs foray into Venus Drive was a much-needed break from civilisation. I am starved for such trips, which have become a luxury in these months of late. Fumbling over my set-up and missing critters along the path at the beginning, it took a while to get back into the swing of things. Hearing the high-pitched buzz of mozzies or feeling the strands of spider silk on the face⊠ahh. It may be annoying, but⊠ahh! I feel alive.
Having experienced a relatively rainy week I thought that we could see the bioluminescent mushrooms out in force, but alas, only singlets were found.
Praying mantid with ootheca (egg case)
Tetragnatha spider strumming her web
A Gnaphosid spider
Possibly a Pisaurid?
I was shining my UV torch onto a tree looking at the scorpions, when I noticed that the
bark had glowing dots. Fungi perhaps?
There have been reports of the dense vegetation along the stream being cleared; that night under the light of the torch, I saw the scene of destruction for myself. What distressing silliness for what we suspect may be a want for more concrete!
17:24
There has been no improvement. In fact, itâs getting worse, and itâs coming to a stage where my brain feels so numbed it might as well cease functioning. Itâs been months of degeneration, months of being washed away by non-thoughts.
Having a good sense of whatâs worth my energy and what isnât, I pick my tasks carefully, even when I may not have the liberty to do so, even when I shouldnât be doing so. I fear being shaped into just another cog, falling prey and subservient to a system that works to twist your beautifully formless and expandable being full of potential into a box of superficiality, irrationality, boot-licking and one that most certainly runs on the Peter Principle. The more they try to bring me further from my original scope, the deeper I am thrust into the abyss and the harder Iâd fight to resist. And fighting back doesnât bode well for me. âExposureâ, they call it. Exposure it sure is, and while Iâm grateful for it, itâs exposure to things Iâd rather not see. While it can be true that knowledge is power, knowledge can also cripple. A poor player at the game, Iâm far more productive not knowing. The process of burning out isnât so much from the actual work â in fact I have been putting in less hours than I used to; and I do like being kept meaningfully busy, as any of my friends can attest to â but from this struggle and inability to find growth and significance. Thereâs been a gross misalignment of values and what Iâm willing to accept and be a part of. But I shouldâve known that from the beginning. And perhaps I am being harsh in my judgement, over-dramatic in my response; these things, I reckon, do happen, everywhere. To different degrees. But.
The unfortunate congruence of ill-timed events are stalling my plans and I no longer have control⊠perhaps I never did. I cannot see beyond the next two weeks, and I hate it. I need the break, but am not allowed to, not⊠âentitledâ to. I desperately need the clarity of mind and the energy to see my now-faint hopes through to actuality, but in this state I lack both.
Itâs a vicious cycle which I cannot get out of; I donât know how to.
Yet I stayed, and stay on, and I will continue to give all that I can in capacities I deem would enable me to contribute whatever I can, while I can. And I will work to create some of these opportunities, while wrestling myself away from those that are bestowed upon the selected, supposedly privileged few. It may not be for that long but Iâm determined not to emo the time away.
People say that the great thing about discontentment is that it can motivate you to seek out a life you actually might find worth living. But am I being too⊠idealistic? Too naive? Immature? Words used by well-meaning cynics of an older generation who are quick to deliver harsh warnings of the nature of reality. Is the pursuit of contentment â not even happiness â too much to ask for?
Humanity is not without flaws, neither is civilisation, neither am I.
Que sais-je!
16:38
My hands smell a combination of rotting flesh and latex gloves, hours after exhuming a sludge of a month-long-buried Oriental whip snake to pick out its skeleton: its skull pieces, much of the vertebrae, and some ribs have been retrieved with some assistance from a colleague (she had previous experience in sorting caterpillar frass, which is arguably an even tougher task), who suffered the odour and the mozzie bites with me. I didnât expect the bones to be this tiny. When I first fingered through the muck of soil, I thought the remnants of the snake had totally disappeared. It was only after washing the contents through a three-dish sieve set with a bucketful of water that there appeared to be the first inkling of anything bone-like.
Tried cleaning the pieces as well as I could, and laid them out to dry in my bathroom. Assembling them like one would an airplane model would be too impossible a task so Iâll be contented to just leave it at that!
The whole exercise was one great lesson in snake anatomy. Photos to come when I have the time.
Leaving for Hong Kong tomorrow, for the Chinese New Year. Packing, among other things, is always a pain.
15:14
Just a collection of what Iâve managed to rear in recent times:
Pericallia ricini (Family Arctiidae / tiger moths):
Metanastria hyrtaca (Family Lasiocampidae / lappet moths):
Perina nuda (Family Lymantriidae / tussock moths):
Enpinanga borneensis (Family Sphingidae / hawk or Sphinx moths):
Carea ?varipes (Family Nolidae / nolid moths):
15:38
Driven by curiosity and the urge to test the hypothesis that the smaller, similarly brown-mottled but black forlegged mantid was indeed the male of Diegoâs species (ok, driven by the sheer excitement of having little Diegos to complete the whole cycle as well), we found and collected one of these, and in a social entomological experiment, chucked them together after ensuring that they were both well-fed and would highly unlikely bite each otherâs heads off in the notorious cannibalistic manner of mating mantids. Diego was nearly two weeks into adulthood, and her sexual organs should have matured.
The first time we placed them together, yesterday, Diego would get âfreaked outâ and dart away whenever the male approached, although the male was showing no signs of being consciously attracted to her. Not being able to observe them throughout the night, I separated them and vowed to try again this evening.
So I did⊠after Diego had consumed a grasshopper her size in the afternoon.
Both their antennae twitched continuously. Diego turned her head to look at the male, then faced front again, as if paying him no attention. Then the male sprung, and landed on her back to front. He about turned, then turned again. Wrong direction. He then got off⊠and they paid no need to each other. I removed him.
Tried again a second time a few moments later. This round, he pounced, re-orientated himself, and tried to connect. Success â after about 18 seconds. She stayed still throughout the entire process.
They were at it for 22 minutes, before he dismounted and flew off.
Now I canât wait to see if she lays a fertilised ootheca!
10:15
With long and graspy legs, nasty jaw-like mandibles and modified appendages through which they inject their prey with venom, these house centipedes look like the epitome of all thatâs evil and dangerous in the wilderness at night.
Yet they do no more harm to humans than the average spider â if they do bite at all. Most just scuttle off into the undergrowth at the slightest hint of disturbance. One individual was most cooperative as we four photographers manoeuvred into position around it. It was so still that one of us made a remark along the lines of, âIt wouldnât be surprising if it was actually already dead and suddenly just dropped to the ground!â
Such close encounters are rare; and we made the most of this opportunity to capture whatever we could of this âpede as the clocks tick-tocked closer towards midnight.
More photos from the night here.
14:29
Okay, so Diegoâs a female.
We counted eight abdominal segments when Diego was a nymph, so we took a risk and named it a him even though we knew that we could really only tell when it reached maturity. We also knew that creatures should be its, but itâs got too much character to be called an it.
We thought Diego was going to explode. A month had gone by without him her undergoing ecdysis, yet she was still eating and growing. Her little wing buds looked as if they would burst at the seams any minute.
A couple of days ago, I transferred her into a bigger container, increased the humidity with a ball of wet wool, and provided her with some fibrous twine to hang upside down from.
Today in the afternoon, she moulted.
I watched, entranced, for an hour.
Right after she slipped out of her old exoskeleton â which took but less than five minutes, I took her out in her teneral state and placed her on a potted plant, letting the breeze dry her new wings, then still damp and clumped.
I observed the process of her transformation into full adult form as body fluids were pumped into her fragile and new structures. She lost a tarsus in her previous instar during a struggle with a grasshopper prey, but the lost appendage had regenerated in this final moult. After her cuticles hardened, she started grooming herself in her characteristic mantid way, brushing antennae and femurs with her mandibles and wiping her face like a cat does.
Sheâs so prettyâŠ
Not entirely certain what species Diego is (this looks like a good fit), but weâre quite sure these are the males of her species, with handsome black forelegs and roach-like long antennae.
6:48
16:36
Marbled forest gecko
Close-up
House centipede
Stick insect
Fulgoroid planthopper nymphs with âfibre-opticâ tails
8:56
Aside from pins and badges, I have a fetish for collecting dead creatures. Arthropods, mainly, and the odd vertebrate, stink though they may. I love being able to examine them up close, at all angles, an otherwise impossible task were they alive. Likewise with the exuviae, my containers of exoskeletons and skins, and zip-lock pouches of feathers.
Just before Christmas, I ordered some entomological supplies from Australia. This was long overdue; I should have acquired them when I still the net-swinging, butterfly-sweeping pre-teen. Or at least after my stint with NHM. Instead most of my specimens were left in vials, all dried up, some diptera headless, some hemiptera legless, and some had succumbed to the humidity and became enveloped in blobs of mould - these were usually promptly disposed of in the bin.
After recently depositing an unidentified species of tingid bug with the Raffles Museum and being given the opportunity to pierce a minuten through its thorax, a brilliant moment of NHM entom-ness struck, and it struck hard. Then I knew that I could hold off starting a proper collection no longer.
I think itâs human nature to want to collect stuff, just that perhaps not that many are into chitinous shells of nature, which is unfortunate. In Singapore, outside the biodiversity establishments, this pastime probably died with the departure of the British.
Whatever it is, it may be that we are deeply intriged by its intrinsic interestingness, its aesthetics, or we simply derive joy in ownership, or we may believe that it holds some potential value. To me, my collections speak to me in a temporal sense: It was [alive], it is [dead], and will continue to be [dead, yet existing]. And, like the photographs I take, I am attached to them through figments of my memory. I remember where I collected them (or how they came to me), with who, and how. Each has a story, and not just physiological ones!
My colleagues have been presenting me with âgiftsâ. The latest are a dead 178cm-long Oriental whip snake (itâs freakinâ long) and a juvenile spotted house gecko. As an experiment, Iâve arranged them in tupperware boxes ventilated with holes and buried them behind the office where ants abound. Iâll give them a while to decompose, and weâll see what happens.
14:10
16:32
A beautiful honeycomb, the nest of honeybees (likeliest candidate Apis dorsata), measuring 61cm at its widest and 41cm across - and that is by no means the full size of the nest since parts of it have been visibly broken off. It smells of honey⊠pure, sweet honey, although all its cells are clean. No larvae, no ants, no signs of life.
A colleague found it (or rather, it found my colleague) when it fell with a thud from the sky, presumably dropped by the raptor - likely a honey buzzard - he saw flying overhead.
15:11
Susan Sontag: âTo photograph is to confer importanceâ.
If I could, Iâd just shoot everything I come across.
Failing which, I suppose these would have to do. Pickings from December so far -
âDiegoâ the mantis nymph, an early Christmas pressie from a colleague; and a female rhino beetle (both were photographed in a captive environment):
A mangrove shore pit viper, the last creature we managed to shoot before the torrent of rain caught up with us at Sungei Buloh:
While in the hide, we photographed everything that came within reach. An osprey and a greenshank in the heavy rain:
At Venus Drive at night, once again on the trail of the elusive bioluminescent mushrooms, we spotted a mygalomorph tarantula, firefly larviform female aka glow-worm, a weird species of lace bug and a hammerhead flatworm:
Meanwhile in the office, I documented more âpressiesâ from colleagues - a green crab spider and this really cute jumper:
Then⊠back to Venus Drive again. A brown mantis greeted us on the way in, and I couldnât resist but try to capture the magnificent architecture of a tiny Araneae spiderâs web just before we left:
Upper Seletar Reservoir over the weekend; explored a new place. A lymantriid caterpillar, and a katydid with an ant:
Giant millipede and tiny bark scorpion:
Oriental whip snake, front (chin) and side portraits:
A (suspected huntsman) spider parasitised by entomogenous fungi:
And finally, over at Mandai⊠a masked lapwing (it was quite an amusing situation):
A lynx spider and St Andrewâs Cross spider:
Sunset over Seletar Reservoir:
15:21
In hindsight, I wonder how I managed to squeeze in all these other activities while working way overtime in preparation for an overseas conferenceâŠ
All hyped up from the first recent re-discovery of the bioluminescent mushrooms, we organised a trip for colleagues and friends:
Then came the night of the Leonid meteor showers last Wednesday. We first drove to the Tampines biking trail, following the recommendations of the local astronomical communityâs list of 5-star star-spotting locations, but having found it too bright from ambient light, we then made our way towards Tanah Merah, finally camping out on Changi Beach. It wasnât the best, but at least the skies were relatively clear from 4-6am and we could see the stars. A pity thereâs no escape from the lights in Singapore, unless you try the offshore islands.
We spent close to four hours before dawn staring at this patch of sky. Between four of us we saw about 20 Leonid meteors, including an uber-cool white fireball, but alas none were captured on camera.
(See this version with the constellations mapped out)
Went down to check on the mushrooms the following night again. Not that many this time round, so I shot other things:
Bark scorpion
Went back to work on Sat morning and after everything was finally over (for me), more night romping.
Sunset at Lower Pierce
Explored a new area - Upper Seletar. Found a couple of weirder versions of common things:
Predatory katydid with raptorial legs
Limacodid moth caterpillar
Tiger beetle
Sunbeam snake
More of this monthâs photos on Flickr.
16:02
Iâd never have considered myself a mushroom hunter (more of a mushroom eater), but ever since I photographed that lone glowing âshroom, I was nearing the point of a healthy obsession whenever I stepped onto that trail.
Last night, for once in many visits, we was not disappointed. The weekâs downpours were not in vain.
They were everywhere, near the streams, on the opposite bank, next to the trail, on broken branches, in leaf litter, at the edge of the secondary forests. It was unlike anything weâd ever seen. With our lights off and eyes adjusted to the darkness, we could see them very clearly: little clusters of bioluminescent mushrooms, glowing an eerie, pale emerald green in the pitch blackness.
At that moment, I donât think I wouldâve have blinked had I seen a pixie or sprite or some other mythical folk. Or one of those kodamas from Mononoke.
There are globally only slightly over 70 (out of 14 000) described species of mushrooms known to be luminescent, and Iâm pretty sure there were at least four difference species from that one little humble patch yesterday. No strenuous hike needed, even. Numerous explanations exist for their luminescence, but generally they still belong to the realm of the mysterious.
More photos on Flickr.
15:43
The next time youâre around the mangroves or Route 3 freshwater ponds at Buloh, listen out for this - the sound of a young estuarine croc calling out to its mom. This was recorded on my N97 about two months ago, while doing my bird-ringing mist net rounds. Apparently, (Nile) croc babies start making umph sounds even before they hatch!
If the player doesnât work, try this.
9:32
Synchronicity is played out in nature time and time again. Being in the right place at the right time, or, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, a series of coincidences leading to some meaningful outcome.
Then, enter the human: you, a non-actor in whatever thatâs happening, yet a crucial influence in far too many others. To chance upon any one such event in the making is more than just a reflection of your âgood luckâ; the privilege to observe inspires a sense of unity with that precious and special natural world. It is refreshing to feel that you are not inhabiting human society, for a while.
Sungei Buloh yesterday was probably all I needed to recharge and recuperate from the previous weeks, and to prepare for whatâs ahead. The day started off wonderfully, warm sun appearing after the rain, and an ad-hoc and extremely brief guided walk (literally just a few steps) and introduction to Buloh for a couple of visitors from Hong Kong. I also shared some locality highlights with a family who was bringing their seven-year-old son on his first visit to the mangroves.
Following a tip-off by Dr Chua regarding the sighting of a dead otter, we made our way towards the high-pitched barking that came from neither man nor bird, and then saw the family of smooth otters, to our left, on a mudflat not too far away, playfully sliding down the banks and splashing in the waters. Then we saw the carcass - loosely wedged between some rocks on the opposite side of the path, the subject of attention of visitors and one big monitor lizard. It was still largely intact, but thoroughly naked, the fur having disintegrated, leaving behind a shimmering, smooth and pale skin. The monitor stood possessively over the body, then attempted to rip a piece of the flesh near the pelvis. Budak called Otterman to ask if RMBR would be interested in its remains, while I requested for some assistance from the Reserve to help us secure the carcass.
After the dead otter was dealt with rather uneventfully - the monitor let out a loud disgruntled hiss as its meal was snatched away - we continued watching the otters. At one point, they climbed up onto the bund we were on, and one after another (there were seven of them), sprainted on a designated spot near the some vegetation less than 10 metres from where we were. Some started grooming themselves. Squatting to stay level with their noses and inching in slowly and respectfully, we squeezed our shutters and fired away. They were hardly bothered by our presence after ascertaining that we posed no threat. Those few moments into their private world were captivating.
Later that afternoon, we also managed to see three crocodiles - two from the Main Bridge, and the third and the largest passed right under our feet at a sluice gate at Route 3.
It wasnât all fine and dandy though. The many dead milkfish that we saw scattered around the Reserve (some were left hanging on branches by the outgoing tide!) hinted at darker themes. Subaraj, whom we bumped into, was just as concerned. We hope it isnât contamination, or some thoughtless and inconsiderate act of the upstream fish farmers releasing their diseased stocks. Was the dead otter we saw an early victim? Consequences of tiny actions can be tragic and severe, for ecological processes are impartial.
Water monitor feeding on otter carcass
Dead milkfish
Smooth otters on bank
Smooth otter sprainting
More smooth otter sprainting
Estuarine crocodile
Pacific golden plovers
What a nice day to mark the 10th anniversary since I started volunteering with the Reserve. More photos from the day on Flickr.
15:48
Buloh on Tuesday night; took some SP students out on a night survey. The mozzies there are evolving towards the likes of the Semakau-esque Commando breed, and in numbers greater than I’ve ever experienced before. Just the thought of them makes me shiver. Today was no better - no rain, nor wind, nor sun would stop them!
Delphacid planthopper
Eusocial bees
Crab-eating frog
11:27
Exploring the wilderness at night is a wholly different experience. More so when the grounds you tread are totally pitch black, shielded by the vegetation and canopies against any light straying in from the neighbouring civilisation. Hardly eerie. Instead, all is at peace.
The light from your headlamp is reflected off dew on the grass, or the backs of spiders or the eyes of frogs. Songs of the crickets, symphonies of the cicadas, calls of the owls and croaks of the toads. Creatures scamper through the bushes - nocturnals that you wouldn’t otherwise see during the day (not that you do see them at night; they move about so quickly that those glimpses aren’t sufficient for accurate identification).
No bioluminescent mushrooms this time, but there were scorpions, looking rather like aliens under the UV light, the fluorescence accenting the beautiful texture of their exoskeletons.
A bark scorpion (Lychas sp.) under normal LED torchlight
The same scorpion viewed under UV light
More photos on Flickr.
9:20
12:20
Venus Drive this morning was wet… wet… wet… yet we continued shooting through the rain. A number of good catches and sightings, including two very beautiful bearded Dracos.
Black-bearded gliding lizard (Draco melanopogon)
Coeliccia octogesima (?) with blue markings resembling telephone handsets
Dolichopodid, long-legged fly (Subfamily Neurigoninae)
17:44
What price, for the liberty of choice?
What price, of the liability of choice?
What cost, of a wrong choice?
Would we be better off without choices; æŻçŠäžæŻç„ž æŻç„žèșČäžèż?
18:20
Two of the Metanastria hyrtaca have emerged and been released so far, about two to three weeks after pupation. Mortality rate was high - a few caterpillars died while in their final instar, and a couple were immortalised in their cocoon webbing while still in their caterpillar forms (failed to pupate).
This particular individual looks different from the previous ones though… most likely a male?
19:07
A middle-aged woman, clad in a tee, shorts and slippers, came running towards us, carrying a large 2L bottle and four plastic cups. “I was watching you from upstairs!” She exclaimed, gesturing towards some upper level in the HDB block behind her.
We initially thought that she was an acquaintance of one of our companions. It took us a few moments to realise, after exchanging glances with one another, that here was a lady who was stranger to us all.
“I couldn’t see any water bottles - I thought you might be thirsty. You have been out in the sun for such a long time…” And she started doling out cups, which we obediently accepted. We thanked her profusely.
But she smiled and brushed our showers of appreciation aside dismissively before leaving us to our business, saying that if her son was out there, she’d do the same, and that we were like children to her too.
What a kind, motherly soul! (”So there is hope for Singapore after all!”)
After gulping down our share of the ice-cold water, we returned to our positions by the canal, cameras and lenses at the ready, awaiting the next incoming round of terns.
17:51
The Metanastria hyrtaca are back. So far so good - no carcasses, and they’re mostly already into their final instar.
Here’s a selection of six faces from the 11 caterpillars that were collected. I’d shoot more of them but it’s a chore getting them onto a branch one-by-one and then keeping them there… they’re either as lazy as muck and no amount of prodding would get them moving (some would then oooooze this icky black substance from their mandibles), or they’d scamper all over the place in an obstinate determination to avoid getting pinched by my pair of chopsticks-cum-forceps.
I guess… if you try really hard, you could tell them apart. After all, they’re all individuals… as are we all.
17:27
Such innocence we find in the expressions of the young.
Innocence that lasts past its tragically short life, a life which we failed to protect.
18:54
Left: 4th June; Right: 17 June
11:42
Perhaps as an effect of its fall onto the car, or perhaps as a result of having recklessly swallowed one too many mealworms, the bulbulâs left side is a little quirky and it has developed an unsightly kink in the neck. âIs the bird ok?â â everyone would ask. In its default state, it is hunched over like an old vulturous hag with the head perpetually tilted at a curious angle. While at rest or asleep, the head just sinks lower. The body posture reminds me of a certain leaning tower. Surprisingly, defying the prophecies of the pessimists, it has made it through not only the first, but the third weekend with us.
New names for it have been proposed by friends and colleagues (âToffee/Walnutâ didnât quite catch on, except among a few of us): Fluffy, Humpy, Flumpfy, and the tongue-in-cheek Quasimododo(do).
At this age, I believe, the young bulbul should be capable of finding, or picking up its own food. But no â itâs still quite ignorant if I may admit it to be so, and it may be my fault for being incapable of teaching it the ways of the aves. It still gapes, quivers, and chirps babyishly and loudly for attention. And it knows no fear. I near-lobbed a large black hole-puncher at it, and instead of ducking and cowering away, it stretched its neck out towards the supposedly-intimidating object and opened its mouth, expecting food! A colleague suggested that I try dressing up as a big brown motherbird, peck at worms, and flap my arms. Failing which, I should at least costume my hand as such. And for good measure, I should also get a cat outfitâŠ
11:17
âInsert swiftly, remove completelyâ has become our unofficial motto, a play on the instructions displayed on a carpark ticketing machine. Get in, shoot, get out; another one down, a tick on the checklist of 100+ selected heritage sites. Time is of the essence, but speed is not always possible!
From having been apprehended by campus security and dragged off to invited to see their management (the hullabaloo has since been cleared), to harassing a handsome cock (twice! â once in the day, and once at night) on the steps of a Hindu temple, or being detained in conversation with an elderly kindly security guard1, itâs been some crazy weeks, and fun times. Itâs been extremely enlightening too, and this project has given us an excuse to go to all those places we wouldn’t usually visit otherwise. Or couldnât usually visit otherwise, without a legitimate reason. Dropping by places of worship or former British- or Japanese-occupied historical blocks of concrete isnât what weâd normally plan for lunchtimes, after work or over weekends.
Just three more to go!
1 Initially reluctant to let us through the gates to shoot an old airport, saying that we needed to write in beforehand to get permission, he relented after a bit of persuasion and also after having considered that the premises was going to be handed over to the government in a few days with accessibility becoming non-negotiable. He had a laboured, slurred speech and walked slowly with a limp, impairments that came about from a nasty âfall from a high placeâ when he was much younger, and he spent years learning how to crawl, walk, run, and talk again. A fighter against ill fortunes, he then took to volunteering at the hospitals, inspiring others and providing counsel and therapy assistance. He secured a job as a security guard, thanks to the folks at the PA who âtook pityâ on his condition. But now, with the handover of this old airport to the authorities who would be employing armed guards, he would be out of a job and would very likely be retrenched. He thought highly of our degrees and jobs and assured us that we youths had a bright future ahead. Should we ever start up running our own businesses, and should we need someone to sweep the floor, he joked, half-seriously, we should remember him. I had taken a photo of him posing in front of the airport and promised to send it to his address.
5:51
The mynah fledging died last Monday, after a mere four days under our care. It had spiritless pupils, and a constantly damp and dirty vent to which was stuck bits of faecal material â the mark of an unhealthy bird. We suspect it came from a condemned brood (diseased? parasitised?) for its sibling was already found dead when the nest was removed from the ceiling.
Immediately after its demise came another young bird in need of maternal attention. The young yellow-vented bulbul arrived in style: on top of the family car, discovered after the car was parked back in the basement carpark at home. (Thereâs a bunch of low-hanging bushes just above the entrance to the carpark, and itâs possible that thereâs a bulbul nest there, and the fledging did a spaghetti Western stunt and dropped onto the car as it was passing by underneath. At least, thatâs as far-fetched a scenario as my imagination would allow.) This little oneâs doing very well, consuming an average of a dozen mealworms each meal, with up to 10 feeding sessions per day earlier this week. It has since become more reasonable with its feeding(-on-demand) times, but itâs learnt to become more selective and would refuse either the mealworms or bird feed and preferring the other. Itâs been chirpy, very observant, capable of short flights, and obsessed with preening. The silly thing isnât very good with keeping its balance on the perch and so it would fall a few centremetres sideways â and downwards â whenever it tries to scratch its head with its leg over the wing, before it flutters frantically for a few moments and regains its upright grip.
It would appear that, being hand-reared and having imprinted on humans, the bird is now too tame to be released into the wild. Different schools of thought here; there are yet some who believe that it can survive on instinct. But weâll see â its future is still uncertain.
16:47
During a recent night survey at Sungei Buloh:
Gynacantha dorhni, a large but slender and beautiful dragonfly, contentedly perched and completely oblivious to the world around it. This individual was, with the mutual agreement of the entomologists present, collected and presented to our in-house odonata expert who then recommended that it be kept as a museum voucher specimen.
A mangrove cricket, back-lit; I had only a moment to set this shot up before it hopped away into the foliage.
A strikingly-patterned and coloured moth (Dysphania sp.) which drew ooohs and ahhs and started a mini-lecture to some less inverty-type volunteers who asked about the differences between moths and butterflies. This moth was also responsible for making me lie flat on my back shooting against the sky with ants crawling around on the ground next to my head. Thank goodness none got into my ear.
13:51
The moment I began the tour this morning, I knew that I was under-performing. It was one of my worst sessions in all these years. The hoo-ahness wasn’t there, and it never came. I didn’t even bother trying hard. It’s just not been a good day… distractions, thoughts, dread in my mind, and I was tired from the week. Never underestimate the importance of the state of mind of a nature guide in effective nature interpretation. I felt sorry for my visitors.
15:12
A lone, wild bioluminescent mushroom as the naked eye sees it. Taken with a 30-second exposure, not too long ago.
13:23
At Buloh, my sis pointed out an Atlas Moth perched right behind me (I was much too engrossed in photographing a tiny juvenile Argiope spider) and according to her, I sprang a little sideways when I came to realise the close proximity of the giant of moths to my head. How I missed it I have no idea, and in her words, it was “noob”ish of me. Other hightlights: Weaver ants tending to young hoppers, hovering d’flies, and a beautiful Gasteracantha.
* * * * *
We spent almost an entire day around the Butterfly Hill/Jelutong campsite on Pulau Ubin, a shrubbery patch which I doubt was larger than a 100m square but so rich was its arthropod diversity that we took hours just to advance a few metres. The variety of bird songs challenged my meagre birding skills, what with my then-knowledge of the call of the [Singapore] flowerpecker having been replaced with the screeches of the [Australian] galahs, which were in turn truncated to make space in my memory for the chirps of the [British] tits. And so on and so forth. I am in bad need of a refresher. More unforgivable was mistaking the chorus of cicadas for crickets, but it was a tune with which I was not familiar - coming from a striking red-and-black cicada species which I have not encountered before on the mainland and was later identified from photographs I took (not specimens I collected *hrrmph!*) as Huechys sanguinea. There’s also a bizarre-looking spider with a teardrop-shaped abdomen, and that one’s awaiting identification from the experts. A centipede was spotted residing quite cosily in what looked like the rolled-up leaf chamber of a sac spider. So many things to see, to shoot, to be baffled by…!
5:08
Not being able to find aphids for the lacewing larvae, I settled for whatever I could find on the leaves of the plants surrounding the office. Fortunately, the larvae took quite well to the whiteflies (Aleyrodidae) and other smiliar-sized insects.
I placed the larvae and their prey onto an island surrounded by a moat in a dish, and observed the proceedings under the microscope. It was like watching Discovery Channel live - almost!
A larva loads itself with debris (a mixture of pieces of vegetation and the remnants of its previous meals, serving as both camouflage and defense against subjugation); it arches backwards and applies the packet to the spikes on its back:
Here one of the larvae has impaled the fly on its jaws and is sucking it out, and another is trying to steal debris off the first:
In this short video clip (please excuse Bach in the background), a larva appears to have successfully harrassed another and taken over its place at the table:
10:34
On my desk sit containers housing stalks of lacewing eggs, a clump of hemipteran eggs, a pair of gecko eggs, and an egg of mysterious origins, unknown disposition and undetermined fertility which was found exposed on a grass patch just behind the office block.
Some of the lacewings have hatched; the ravenous larvae have cannibalised one another and only four out of the dozen were left standing by the time I had gotten round to separating them into individual cells. Now I’ve to find food for them - donations of aphids and mealy bugs are welcomed.
Lacewing eggs (Neuroptera - Chrysopidae)
Mystery egg
14:20
16:51
The first of the three sole survivors of the genocide has emerged.
Presenting… the adult Metanastria hyrtaca, a swirl of a snouty, chocolately furry being. My foster-motherly tendencies not being able to resist a gentle pat of its head for making it this far, I swept a finger lightly along what could be called its forehead, only to feel and to find a row of black spikes embedded into my fingertip.
Yeowch, that evil little thing.
Two more to go, and they’ll most likely emerge tomorrow. They shall be released where they were found, and may the force be with them and their offspring as they wage the war on and continue the fight for their species. It is a war of man against nature, and man against man.
14:43
0:06
I've lived in three countries over the 25 years of my life. Two are in Europe, one in Asia where I was born. Come summer, I will be moving across the Atlantic for three months. I believe I have seen enough to be able to think, much to be able to judge. I don't want to address the topics of friendships and relationships, love and trust, philosophy and psychology today. I want to reveal to you, reader, how I see my home country, Singapore.
Today marks two weeks exactly since I've left. I feel very much like a tourist, more than I've ever been before. Ever heard the chinese saying, "ćœć±è èż·ïŒæè§è æž “ïŒFor the two weeks I've been back, I haven't felt assimilated. Perhaps I never was, and sadly I never will be. It's too easy to tell by my accent - both in English and in Mandarin - that I'm "not from around here". But listen, it's not only the way I speak. The differences run deeper than that.
Family and acquaintances keep asking me, "How many years do you have left? When will you be returning". And all the time I skirt the question, saying there are at least three years until I finish my PhD. What I am witholding is how much I am sure I will not return. Only close friends, and ironically my Dad seem to understand. The answer, a much better answer that would have only been truthful would be, "Let's put it this way, Singapore wouldn't have anything to offer for what I want to do."
I used to think myself weak and undesirable in the eyes of the Singapore system. Indeed, I have never been a scholar, I never 'won', for I failed to pass the second test for the 'gifted' education program, and I didn't get 4 As for my GCE 'A' levels. In the eyes of the Singaporean community, I am a failure, as I paid my way through a degree at Imperial. Yes, incredible, isn't it? Well, this is the fruit of a 'meritocratic' society. A 'meritocratic' society so focused on 'merit' in terms of academic results at school that they disregard everything else, especially creativity. Ironically of course, there is so much talk of nurturing creativity! Here's a story - I only really gained some confidence when I found myself a lab placement at Imperial during my second year there. Quite unfortunately, I was up against a much too self-confident A-star scholar, who consistently scored As and who was always comparing himself to me. More unfortunately, I thought he was a good friend. Well, he didn't take it well when I was taken on. Instead, he sent what I found out later to be a 'really nasty' email to the PhD student who took me on. And since then he had issues with the entire lab.
Here's another - an ex-boyfriend and his family never took it well that I did one lab placement after another. For those of you scientists out there, we all know that getting lab placements are really not a big deal. The problem is, when you have a very competitive boyfriend and his family who are constantly comparing you to him and who are jealous of your success, you've hit homerun. Things start to get difficult, because you're not supposed to do well, since you're not a scholar, and he is… well… an EDB scholar, known to be one of the most competitive government scholarships. And of course you get labelled as lucky, paying your way to your future, and other ridiculous accusations such as bad upbringing.
Well. All that was in the past. The point is, how can one return to a country where:
And most shocking of all,
Well, if you can't beat them, join them. OR if you have a choice, think twice about joining them. This, my friends, is my home country. Welcome to Singapore! :D
4:44
After two-and-a-half years later of journeying with my D200… it’s time to lay it to rest in the dry box. Not that the D200 was proving inadequate; I’d very gladly stick to it till its shutter dies, but its sensor had gone awry and it’d cost more than a third the price of a new D300 to get it replaced. I had waited a while, deliberating, but the white line problem was getting worse, and decided that there was no point in hesitating further. Camera and lens prices have been rocketing recently too, with the strength of the Yen. Had I gone to the shop last week, I would have saved a hundred bucks or so.
As tradition goes (D70, D200), I spent the day with my new D300 (duckfully named the Husky Express) at Sungei Buloh. It was a poor day for wader flight shots, compared to the previous Saturday, but it rained… finally! After all these weeks of nothing but the sun. I was at Venus Drive yesterday and walked through a patch of scorched earth, the site of a small bushfire a few days ago.
A water monitor wades past a flock of Common Redshanks and Little Egrets. The birds were hardly disturbed.
Grey heron in the rain
Buloh Main Bridge
16:14
Sprayed with insecticide by SBG staff, apparently. Some were still twitching by the time I got on scene.
They were there on that same spot on the tree (a Terminalia ivorensis) for a week, at least. I counted over 160 of them earlier this week, and collected 6 of them, 4 of which have pupated and cocooned themselves at the top of the tank. Now I wished I had been greedier.
There were none left alive on the tree, a Terminalia ivorensis… none which I could see, anyway. No cats, no cocoons. Just carcasses atop a giant pile of poop.
14:50
Curious onlookers would approach me, where I was standing by the main bridge with my camera pointed at the bushes, asking what I was shooting. I’d point out the Shore Pit Viper coiled up between the branches, adding a descriptive sentence or two about the reptile.
“How do you know it’s a viper?” a little girl asked.
“See the triangular head? Vipers have triangular heads.”
“How do you know it’s venomous?” she pressed.
“Would you like to try…?”
A furious shake of the head, a few steps back, laughter.
“Jokes aside, it is very venomous, so please be careful… do not disturb it, provoke it, or go too near, and you should be safe. All vipers are venomous, and can strike without warning…”
She looked mortified, so I added in the interesting fact that these pitvipers give birth to live young, unlike most other reptiles.
Thank goodness she didn’t ask me how I knew that.
15:55
Keep seeing massive clumps of various sorts of hairy/tufty/spikey/furry moth caterpillars on tree trunks lately…
5:21
I was out of the office most of this week at a three-day workshop, and so couldn’t keep a motherly eye on the two reptilian eggs of an unknown species that were collected from a coastal forest in mid-December last year. On second thoughts, I should’ve brought them home, like I usually do.
When I returned to the office today, a colleague told me that she saw geckos in the tank.
“?! They’ve hatched?”
I could only find one of them, well-camouflaged within the leaf litter, a tiny 6.3cm thing which resembled a little Rye, a Gekko monarchus. The name ‘Ryester’ quickly caught on.
The other was nowhere to be seen; it might have slipped through the holes in the cover. I also found a piece of slough which looks like it might have come from the lower jaw. Ryester’s got some rough peeling patches - hatchlings moult this soon? Hardly three days’ old.
He’s also extremely skittish, skippy, and likes to pounce. If you touch his snout or stroke his head, he’ll open his mouth so wide that you can see his palate and all the way down his throat.
We’ll keep him for a while longer, until he has the chance to go on a short return boat ride and be released where he came from.
11:32
Yesterday while at the Kranji Nature Trail, many of us noticed the odd occurrence of a great number of the black spiny ants (Polyrachis sp.) apparently ’suspended in motion’, especially towards the end of the trail where the mangroves met with the secondary forest. They were all dead, their mandibles clasping onto the edge of a leaf, or twig, and isolated from the colonies. We suspected it’s the doing of fungal parasitism. I collected a few of them, with the thought of doing some research on this. Today I saw fungal growth on the ants - so the cause of death is certain.
More on this to come as soon as I find out more.
10:04
Office Pet #4: Gekko monarchus
We think it’s a she, although it’s probably still too young to tell, for it still has almost double its body length to grow. She’s getting better at that hunting job and gobbles up everything I throw at her - grasshoppers, crickets, ‘roaches, spiders, the odd caterpillar… and doesn’t need to be ‘tweezer-fed’ any more. I’m now waiting for her to moult, for I’ve yet to observe a gecko in the moulting process. Learning quite a lot about gecko feeding behaviour too.
9:50
Recently, I’ve had caterpillars fall onto my path, cats as gifts, and cats gotten rid of as unwanted pests on (or around) my colleagues’ beloved plants. The collection of vials and containers on my desk and my bathroom at home has been growing. Some contain eggs, some house pupae, and others… other stuff. My latest obsession has been a patch of Clerodendrum plants near the Visitor Centre at the Botanic Gardens, which I’d visit every day after work if I could. It all started with these tussock moth pupae I discovered suspended in webs on its leaves… and took a few back, curious as to what would emerge from them. Turned out to be Perina nuda, and apparently all of them were male. Keeping an observation diary of sorts now… and I’ve a dozen suspected Perina nuda eggs waiting to hatch.
1: Un-IDed moth cats
2: Clearwing/Banyan Tussock (Perina nuda), pre-pupation
3: Grass yellow (Eurema sp.)
4: Common Awl (Hasora badra badra) cat
5: Sphingidae, pre-pupation (Hawk or Sphinx moth)
6: Nicknamed ‘Kaonashi’ aka ‘No Face’, Hesperiidae cat, possibly Telicota sp.?
7: Tussock moth
8: Un-IDed moth cat?
16:54
Last week was all about the shores and seagrasses. This week was all about the birds, butterflies and bees(+wasps), with two groups - the NSS birders, and Butterfly Circle members down for their respective faunal surveys.
What beautiful weather! Clear blue skies as we set off from the West Coast Pier on a 12-crew workboat.
The breeze was strong, presenting a real challenge for macro photography, and the sun was dehydratingly hot. For the most part, I gave up on nature photography and just did mainly landscape shots.
The butt experts got unexpectedly busy. They shot by the roadside, in the mangroves (with the swarms of mozzies), by the coast, and in the grasslands. Some of us took the opportunity to slack it out in the hut, enjoying cans of 100-plus whilst the more hardcore ones amongst us continued on their hunts through uncivilised territory. We spotted lots more butts today - tigers, pansies, lascars, yellows… and altogether the team tallied a list of 18 species, which is quite impressive considering the lack of butt sightings on previous trips by other groups to Semakau. These guys have trained eyes, patience, tolerance, and luck on their side. Also with us was John Lee, the hymenopteran expert behind this website whom I had only knew by name but not by face. Armed with his net and bottles of specimens, he’s a walking encyclopedia of all buzzing things that sport a sting.
Links:
10:23
The Semakau Landfill is Singapore’s only landfill for waste disposal. It covers a total area of 350 hectares and has a capacity of 63 million mÂł. To create the required landfill space, a 7-km perimeter rock bund was built to enclose a part of the sea off between Pulau Semakau and Pulau Sakeng [off the southern coasts of Singapore]… was commissioned in April 1999 [and is expected to last until 2040].
- Signboard at Semakau NEA jetty
As if the excitement of the previous day’s trip to Cyrene wasn’t enough for a week, this was my first time to Semakau too. I wouldn’t have known this was Semakau, or that it was a landfill site, if I hadn’t actually known. It had none of the unpleasantries associated with waste disposal and management… nothing like a typical landfill in the UK. It was clean, green… and flat.
A 45-minute boat ride brought us from the Marina South Pier on the mainland to Pulau Semakau. Once there, we split off into our teams and together with our equipment were ferried in a small van along the rock bund to an opening in the mangrove forest that separated the landfill cells and the sandy shores. We trudged through the mangroves, and got out on the other side, the more unfortunate among us already itching and scratching from the mozzie assault.
After some initial difficulties in getting the transect line taut and straightened and laid according to the given bearing, the seagrass survey went quite smoothly.
The sky was overcast and it had rained a little earlier in the day, so we were grateful that not a drop was drizzled when we were out there. There was a beautiful sunset, too, its colours reflected in the pools of still water during the low tide.
Links:
3:54
My 6-year-old Nikon Coolpix 4500 was a more-than-decent camera in its days. It packed a powerful macro function, and that it offered full manual control over exposure settings and flash output meant that in some ways, it is still a superior machine to many of the point-and-shoots out there in the market today. At least, I would still prefer it to my mom’s Canon compact.
But with an LCD screen size of 2.5×3cm (it’s teeny), and at 4 megapix, it’s hardly adequate anymore. Not wanting to lug my D200 between home and the office every day, I kept my Coolpix in the office and a few times in the previous weeks I had an opportunity to use it. I also took it out to Buloh once recently to see if it was still capable of performance. On all occasions I was dismayed to find that I was far from happy with the results (although it still managed to get me this). It was clear that it was time to get a new digital compact.
So I did.
And… *gasp* don’t flip…
I got a Canon PowerShot G10 - the current flagship of Canon’s advanced compact cams. I was contemplating the Nikon P6000, but reviews and advice from friends convinced me that Nikon was, unfortunately, a bit of a let-downer in the P&S field.
15:33
Tiger beetle
Weaver ants attacking termite
15:17
How many waders can you spot?
Sunset at Buloh
23:39
It is getting more difficult by the hour to think straight. I am already transported back to those dreadful months two years ago. I never ate the sweets you gave me - they ended up on the common table in our office. I fear now that I might burst again at work. I must hold on. Just 2 more months and a little more to recover. Yet I have not the privilege to be selfish - I must think about us. So I must pay for my decision. I thought that I have had done with heartaches, but it comes again in a different form. Still I know I am getting older, still I see no sign of settling down. Perhaps it is the sort of thing a scientist pays for being 'worldly', it was definitely the case for Pietro, ironically. I think I might end up the same way, only perhaps without family.
Well, or would I rather never to have experienced? I should be thankful because then I would never have known about you. This is my problem and only I am entitled to think about it. If you ever reach this page, you shall find out what it means to me, but I fear you never will. And I am too timid to speak. It is such an irony that I cannot practice what I preach. It is almost as if I couldn't understand myself. And believing in karma, which sometimes I chide. What good has it done? Oh what irony to barely touch and have to let go again!
18:32
The sunflowers are wilting, the cold is approaching.
æćż éĄ»äžćšäč "怩éżć°äč ", ćȘćšäč "æŸç»æ„æ"…
There was a consensus, but I never saw it would be this painful. I cannot afford to think about the multiple possibilities that might or might not occur, but to focus only on the now. I am starting to doubt my beliefs, our actions. I am starting to doubt fate. I know only that I should not hope nor should I dread. I know I should not compare, should not draw parallels.
And that is why I missed London so much. Because I left in good stead. Whereas here in Lausanne, in due time, it will only be emptiness and cold. It will be solitude and painful memories. It will remain so until I pick myself up, until it is summer again, until I have new, fresh memories.
äžșä»äčæ»æŻèżæ ·???
14:34
17:59
Dogged wanderings, all of ‘em… ‘Paws at the Beach‘ at East Coast Park, in celebration of World Animal Day 2008. My sis and I came back smelling like a-few-dozen-dogs-in-one, and Dofu gave us a thorough sniff-over when we returned. She was full of snorts.
9:25
Female juvenile Changeable lizard
Whimbrels - possibly the best waders-in-flight shot I’ve taken in Singapore thus far
16:46
Composite of 400mm, ISO 200, f/5.6, 1/8s + ditto, 1/200s
Nikon D200 + Nikon Fieldscope ED78 (= 1000mm) + attachment
7:49
Ged’off my proboscis!
17:49
The term ‘cute’… being applied subjectively, of course.
Oriental magpie robin
A baby monitor lizard
Sun skink
WALL*E spider
13:52
A Common Greenback surrounded by Asiatic Toad(let)s; taken with my N73 at the Botanic Gardens.
17:41
When I lack the wordmanship to form my thoughts into a legible form, and when quotes from other books and authors fall short of what I want to express, I turn to Michel de Montaigne.
Montaigne and his Essays have never failed to soothe my soul:
Not being able to control events I control myself: if they will not adapt to me then I adapt to them. I have hardly any of the art of knowing how to cheat Fortune, of escaping her or compelling her, nor of dressing and guiding affairs to my purpose by wisdom…
And the most anguishing position for me is to remain in suspense among pressing troubles, torn between fear and hope. It bothers me to make up my mind even about the most trivial things, and I feel my spirits more hard-pressed in suffering the swings of doubt and the diverse shocks of decision-making than in remaining fixed, resigned to any outcome whatsoever once the dice have been thrown. Few emotions have ever disturbed my sleep, yet even the slightest need to decide anything can disturb it for me.
For my journey I avoid steep slippery downward slopes and leap into the most muddy and mirey of beaten tracks from which I can slip no lower, and find assurance there: so too I prefer misfortunes to be unalloyed, ones which do not try me, nor trouble me further about whether they can be put right, but which immediately drive me straight into suffering.
11:37
Oriental Whip
19:08
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.
~ H. P. Lovecraft
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself - nameless, unreasoning, unjustified, terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.
~ Franklin D. Roosevelt
The experience of overcoming fear is extraordinarily delightful.
~ Bertrand Russell
17:36
Know those arcade shooter games where you’re supposed to rescue hostages and you have your crosshairs hovering over innocent victims?
Us camera-trotting types may have to echo their cry.
I’m a bit late on this one - trust the budak to have spotted this article in BBC when I missed it. I’m not in London right now and I haven’t seen the posters, but I’m sure I wouldn’t want to (be seen around them), especially not if I have my camera with me.
Having had the experience of being questioned by police officers a handful of times while shooting in London (be it doing street or public events), I know how harassing it can be when you are stopped by the Met in their florescent duty jackets:
“Do you have a permit for that?”
Do I need a permit?
“Are you taking this for commercial purposes?”
No, not commercial, I assure you. It’s my hobby - purely for personal purposes.
“What are you taking?”
Erm… whatever I feel would make a good picture?
That BAJ press pass came in handy on several occasions, but at times you’d just feel like being rebellious and think yourself worthy of occupying a few more seconds’ worth of an officer’s time.
I know the authorities’ intentions are all and well, but it gets depressing when they launch campaigns that would only spread paranoia and reap suspicion of photographers amongst the masses. And just what do they mean by ’seems odd’, anyway? If they’re brown-skinned? Turbaned? Bearded? Looking suspicious? Furtive movements? Darty eyes? Terrorists don’t exactly like to flaunt the fact that they are terrorists… or so my understanding was.
Live in fear, you should. Potential terrorists are all around you. Just look at that dude with his spunky new white Canon L-lens.
Link :: Odd looking photographer? Must be a terrorist (with parodied posters)
Related info :: UK Photographers’ Rights leaflet (know your rights!)
9:05
Moreover, scientists are usually careful to characterize the veridical status of their attempts to understand the world - ranging from conjectures and hypotheses, which are highly tentative, all the way up to laws of Nature which are repeatedly and systematically confirmed through many interrogations of how the world works. But even laws of Nature are not absolutely certain. There may be new circumstances never before examined - inside black holes, say, or within the electron, or close to the speed of light - where even our vaunted laws so Nature break down and, however valid they may be in ordinary circumstances, need correction.
Humans may crave absolute certainty; they may aspire to it; they may pretend, as partisans of certain religsion do, to have attained it. But the history of science - by far the most successful claim to knowledge accessible to humans - teaches that the most we can hope for is successive improvement in our understanding, learning from our mistakes, an asymptotic approach to the Universe, but with the proviso that absolute certainty will always elude us… …
Because science carries us toward an understanding of how the world is, rather than how we would wish it to be, its findings may not in all cases be immediately comprehensible or satisfying. It may take a little work to restructure our mindsets. Some of science is very simple. When it gets complicated, that’s usually because the world is complicated - or because we’re complicated.
~ Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World
19:39
There were crowds at Pulau Ubin last Friday. Crowds! We actually had to queue to get on a bumboat, the bicycle rental shops were packed and the restaurants were full even when lunch hour had long passed. Don’t know if it’s a good thing or bad. Most weren’t locals though. Mainly bunches of gweilos and mainlanders (or PRCs, as they call them here).
Much has changed since I last went to Ubin, which, according to my records was in December 2004. For one, Chek Jawa was still relatively untouched. Now it’s got that boardwalk… and House No. 1 has been turned into a visitor/heritage centre. There’s that Ubin Green House, SEC/GVN’s eco-house, and the newish Ubin Volunteer Hub. The potent mozzies still wouldn’t leave me alone, though. Among the four of us to have gone there that day, I suffered the most bites. Others came through unscathed. Sigh, the unfairness of it all.
Saw the hornbill there at long last, and caught it in flight, too! Pekan Quarry is a lovely place to relax and lie in wait for passing birds. It might become my favourite spot there yet.
Not sure why I’m feeling so lazy to type right now. It’s one of those periods when I’m dry of words. Budak has written up entries on it - this and the preceding six posts.
Robber fly with damselfly prey
Digger wasp, Bembix sp. (Sphecidae)
Glossy starling
Oriental pied hornbill
Pekan Quarry
Mutt
Full moon
18:03
Perhaps more than just so that I can improve on the quality of my pictures and not be limited by adverse lighting conditions all the time, the drive to get a f/2.8 mid-range zoom lens - which costs almost as much as my D200 body - was spurred in part by a need to protect my reputation, or however much of it that does exist.
I was simply unhappy with the results I was delivering with the 18-200mm lens, the lens which is almost permanently on my camera body. Its zoom range makes for a handy walkabout and travel lens when the added weight of additional lenses isn’t welcome and swapping lenses may prove to be an inconvenience. But its sharpness, colour and clarity, although acceptable, leaves much to be desired when shooting at a quasi-professional level. I’d be shooting on the scene, reviewing my pictures, and knowing that they’re crappy shots. In fact I’d know them to be crappy even before I started shooting. I’d be dragging my feet when the time came for me to hand in my shots. It is not a pleasant feeling.
People wouldn’t know (they don’t really care) if the other photographers on site or the one they engaged on previous or future occasions have better equipment, or is a dedicated PR or events photographer. If you use a big-ass dSLR, you take good photos. If your photos don’t look good, you’re a poor photographer. So many things can go wrong on a shoot, and so much of it lies in whatever equipment (or lack thereof) is at your disposal. Add on to that the possibilities of camera or lens malfunction, memory card corruption, battery exhaustion (always carry spares!), speedlights not synching, people getting in your way, horrible lighting on site, the need to be omnipresent on scene to capture everything and thus sometimes missing an important second or two, people blinking, people smiling lopsidedly, people with mouths wide open when it would have been better if they weren’t. Some things you can control, but some things you can’t. The less suited your kit, the more things you can’t.
The saying goes that ‘a photographer is only as good as his last shoot’. It is true. I want every last shoot to be a good shoot. I need to deliver. And hence the greed and the need.
Perhaps it is correct to assume that nature and street photography suit me best. Thankless genres, but such photography is motivated by a passion for the subject. All I need to please is myself and nobody else. I shoot to enjoy, not to impress.
18:35
I think I’m getting the hang of the R1 close up speedlights. All those flashes have been giving me that black background and some harsh lighting at times, although a number turned out decent. I might try my hand at alternative lighting techniques on my next outing though, with angled flashes and bounce cards and the whole lot. I’ve also come to realise how useful a monopod can be in the field… which reminds me, I really should get a ballhead.
Bukit Timah Nature Reserve and the Botanic Gardens yesterday, with the companionship of mr budak and my sis, on her first visit to BTNR. A quiet day, the critters we saw were all much too tiny, but at least the weather had been extremely kind and the forecasted thunderstorms did not come.
Even bugs need to pee - a Stink Bug nymph (Pentatomidae)
A Squash Bug (Coreidae)
Don’t be fooled - one’s an ant and the other’s a spider. Amazing how alike the real thing (a Polyrhachis aka Spiny Ant) the mimic can be
A cute little Kendall’s Rock Gecko with those big round eyes (not sure if the term ‘lifer’ applies to non-avians but this would be a first for me)
A male Changeable Lizard, in faded breeding colours
Photos :: Bukit Timah Nature Reserve & Singapore Botanic Gardens
13:30
The rain shows no signs of easing up, with thunderstorms forecasted for the rest of the week. Still, managed to get a few macro shots at the Botanic Gardens today, amidst drizzles, my new Nikon R1 close-up speedlight system finally seeing some action in the field after having sat at home for a month.
White-handed flies doing a curious mating dance
White-handed flies… after the dance
Need-to-find-out-its-species cicada
____________ (fill in your own caption)
Photos :: Singapore Botanic Gardens
12:43
Other than the wildly successful bid to host the inaugural Youth Olympic Games in 2010, there is a lesser-known bid that Singapore is trying to win: WSJ 2015. The Singapore Scouts played host to the Chief and senior Commissioners of the various National Scout Organisations (read: countries) over the weekend, bringing them on a social and site inspection visit to where we propose the World Scout Jamboree 2015 to be held (mainly on Coney Island and at Punggol Point, but with activities taking place over the entire island!). Commissioners from over 100 countries attended, and were treated to dinners which over the nights were hosted or graced by the presence of Prof Tommy Koh, President Nathan, and Dr Vivian Balakrishnan. The packed itinerary included a stay at the Regent Hotel, visits to the Asian Civilisations Museum, OBS at Pulau Ubin, the NEWater plant, the Istana, Sungei Buloh, Singapore Science Centre, and the Botanic Gardens, and various other places like the heartlands or cultural districts. They were the most hardcore tourists!
I loved mingling around with the commissioners. They loved to joke, tease, laugh, and basically have fun. Young at heart indeed. I learnt much, about them, their countries, and as I went I realised how misplaced some of my knowledge about the world was. Even Imperial or the Model UN didn’t have this international a flavour. Looking at them at Burkhill Hall at the Botanics on the last day, in their own countries’ uniforms, how distinctly unique each country was in its culture and heritage, but all bonded by that common identity of a scout scarf and the World badge - we were all Scouts of peace, no matter our histories, no matter our current political stances. Here, where the peoples of countries formerly or even currently at war could talk freely, among brothers.
I think the Singapore Scout Association did great - the programme, logistics, efficiency, everything throughout those three days… were set to impress. At the risk of sounding like a brainwashed patriotic citizen, listening to the testaments of the commissioners declaring their countries’ support for Singapore, I must say that I did feel proud to be Singaporean… ironically, while donning the UK uniform!
During the feedback and debrief session, a question was posed to our Chief: “The Singapore government now is very supportive of the bid. But what if it changes its stance or the political structure changes in future, before 2015?” The hall erupted in laughter. The Singaporeans present chuckled with knowing confidence, as did the representatives from the other Asian countries. Overheard from one of the Asian commissioners: “How little he knows about Singapore!”
The Zambian commissioner made a moving speech on the call for peace, and how impressed he was with Singapore’s multiculturalism and inter-racial harmony. “We in Africa have been hacking each other, just because we are from different tribes. I will support sending our children here, so that they can learn, so that they can see, how people of different colours can live together in harmony, in peace, with a common vision for the nation.”
Later on, over dinner, I heard one of the African commissioners asked Minister Balakrishnan, “So can you tell me what is not well with your government? Really, you have good security, communication…”
The Ugandan commissioner was full of praises, assuring us that only positive reports from what he has witnessed first-hand in Singapore would be sent to the top ministers in his government and his President, and humbly admitting that Uganda has much to learn from Singapore, such a small country, but so advanced, and so ahead in so many ways - how is has developed, how it is governed, how we manage to balance economic and environmental needs, which was a running theme throughout - Prof Tommy Koh mentioned, it, our Chief Commissioner elaborated on it, Dr Balakrishnan again touched on it.
It was all over too soon, I’m sure we wished it had lasted longer, this unique experience - both for them, the visitors to Singapore, and for us the hosts. But I’m sure Singapore nailed it… at least, I hope we did!
The Polish and Mozambican commissioners posing for a photo
Prof Tommy Koh (Ambassador-at-Large for Singapore, Chairman of the Institute of Policy Studies, National Heritage Board and Chinese Heritage Centre… and an environmental champion)
Mr Yatiman Yusof (Singapore’s High Commissioner to Kenya, former MICA Senior Parliamentary Secretary), providing commentary on the bus
The rainbow underground fountain at the NEWater plant
The Tunisian commissioner speaks
The Saudi Arabian commissioner with Dr Vivian Balakrishnan (Minister for Community Development, Youth and Sports)
18:23
After months of bumping around the corners, I've 'found' a one-size-fits-all approach to my photography exploits. I have gotten a wallet-sized card printed, which I would hand out either on its own (after ticking the relevant boxes) or together with my namecard. Much better than writing out additional URLs at the back of my namecard (it can become quite tedious when there're lots of people or when you're hard-pressed for time), or printing out slips of notes and messages. The third section with the 'Street Photographer's message' would serve to reinforce what I find myself repeating in confrontations with strangers. Hopefully this would pacify them some, and would give them the option of contacting me for their pics as well, all self-explanatory on the card. The actual version of this has my contact details too, of course.
5:44
They could’ve called it the National Queuing Day; it would have been a lot more fitting.
Are Singaporeans really that interested in aviation, or are they just curious, or do they simply have nothing better to during the weekends? I counted spending at close to 4 hours waiting in queues, possibly more. There was that massive convoluted queue around the Pasir Ris MRT station (that alone took more than an hour) to board the free shuttle (should have avoided that in the first place), the jam along the roads to the exhibition site (we ended up missing most of the flying display, and had to watch the A380 and the RAAF’s performance while still on the bus) , the queue upon arrival to get through registration and all those security checks, the queue after registration to get to where the static displays were, and after everything, the queue back out and the queue to board the coaches back out to town.
The airshow itself was pretty good, but crowd control and organisation was extremely poor. Tickets had to be purchased in advance, and so most people had to grit their teeth and just go through all that agony for that opportunity of a close encounter with military and commercial aircraft. I didn’t catch the Black Knights doing their manoeuvres - I only saw the Aussie’s Roulettes, and even then the sky was overcast and all washed out and just made for horrible, horrible photography. Even so, I’m glad I went for the airshow, fulfilling a lesser-known childhood want of mine, despite my parents’ warnings that airshows were dangerous events to attend. How else could I get to stand under the nose of an A380 or get onto the back of a Chinook?
Photos :: S’pore Airshow 2008
7:19
For events, I don't usually bother developing the shots afterwards and handing them to whoever I've taken. I'd pass a DVD to the organisers, and they'd be responsible for passing them down. But what can I do when a lanky old man with a permanent lopsided grin passes me his postal address on the back of a receipt, and earnestly asks me to send him the photos I've taken of him and his old folk pals? In Mandarin he forces me to confirm, "You will send us the photos, ya?"
The responses are varied. Some, as if a photo of them at this age would be the most offensive thing in the world, would grimace and cover their faces and wave me away. Others, embracing the company of their friends dressed in bright festive Chinese tops and swaying along to the music, would call out to me in their hoarse voices and ask me to snap a shot. I'd go round the table and squat by them afterwards while they tell me stories and try to make talk, a splattering of saliva finding their way onto my face, which I'd subtlely and politely wipe away with an arm. If it was Mandi or Canto, it'll be a conversation. If it was Hakka or some other dialect, it'll be a monologue until I cease my smiling and let it develop into a confused frown. Then I'd be released and allowed to go on my way.
I admit I don’t have much experience with senior citizens. I don’t know if I should feel pity or happy for them. I guess a mixture of both. Many needed support on canes and other devices, some required wheelchairs, and some had to be accompanied by personal helpers. There were many, though, who amazed us with their spirit and playful demeanor. Some would munch on buns, pick bones out of fish, perform feats of delicate handling with their chopsticks, or sing and get up from their chairs to dance to the music against all appearances of fragility. There was an elderly woman who told us she was turning 94 this year, but she looked decades younger. She’d blush and look away when praised of her youthful complexion and bright, alert eyes…
8:10
The earliest diary entry that mentioned my fascination for caterpillar-rearing was written when I was 11 - 10 April 1996: “checked the plants and found out that the caterpillars turned into pupas [sic]!“. Now it’s my sis who gets all excited, and watches over her charge day and night. A lime caterpillar I found on one of my mom’s friend’s plants was brought back and passed to my sis for safekeeping. It turned into a pupa (also called a chrysalis for butterflies) just before we left for Hong Kong, and in the wee hours of this morning, the butterfly emerged.
These pics of previous caterpillars reared were taken with my Nikon CP4500. These are both lime caterpillars - the one looking like birds’ droppings is of the earlier instars, and as the caterpillar matures it would assume the green, plump and juicy form.
Left: a newly-formed pupa, and right: hours to metamorphosis completion.
The remains of the caterpillar’s final moult is found next to the pupa.
Fresh out of the pupal case, the butterfly rests while it pumps fluids through its wings and waits for them to dry and harden. During this time, I place it where it can receive ample sunlight.
A closer look at its coiled-up proboscis and ‘furry’ body
Ready for release, my sis and I bring it down to the gardens for a final photoshoot before seeing it flutter away into the treetops
10:20
** Image-intensive post! **
My first time seeing the parade, possibly my best series of images to date! Chingay was fantastically impressive - nothing in London can beat this! They call it the Parade of Dreams… ‘Asia’s grandest street and floats parade’. It leaves little room for doubt.
I lingered around the assembly area during the pre-parade preparations, and took candid shots of the performers getting themselves ready. They were friendly and willing to pose, and I chatted with our performer guests from the Philippines, Taiwan, Korea and Japan while mingling around.
For the parade itself, abandoning my family and friends higher up in the stands, I sneaked out front and positioned myself in between the row of press photographers, squatting by the roadside just behind the barricades. A press photog whom I met on two on previous occasions blurted out a surprised “Ey? Hello…!” when we came to mutual recognition. I grinned. I was out there to stay, pass-less and lanyard-less though I was. We then turned our attention to the F1 ‘Red Bull’ racecar and in synchrony with the rest of the photogs, panned our lenses from left to right and right to left, trying to lock on to that ridiculously speedy racecar. The rest of the parade shoot, as they say, is history. Behold the Beast!
“I luvu Shingapor!” - performers from the ‘So’ Erg Dance Company, Kagoshima Japan
Hrrrumph.The Taiwan Xin Yi Fang Singing and Opera Troupe
Lots of fishies. Not sure where they’re from…
A proud Harley biker deafens the crowds with his engine’s roars
Floral dancers from the prelude segment
The audience covers their eyes while firecrackers go off in the starting ceremony
Reach for the sky!
The fire-spewing luminous dragon from teh S’pore Dragon and Lion Athletic Association
Dancers from NUS Sheares Hall
A cheeky perfomer from the Celtic piece ‘The Legend of Balor’
Tribal and rural dance performers from the Philippines
Kuda Kepang dancers from Johor
Erm, medieval warriors moving a castle of sorts?
Local artistes Gurmit Singh, Michelle Chia, Quan Yi Feng and Bryan Wong
The climax of the parade - City Hall crowned by fireworks
A glittering affair!
The finale… the ‘Celestial Web’
Photos :: Chingay 2008
16:04
Here be random scribblings from my jotterbook, not necessarily in sequential order…
- 1 -
The fares to Japan usually cost more than flights to elsewhere, relatively speaking. I noticed that the in-flight menu had better quality paper and finishings. The meal trays too, were more aesthetically pleasing and had a Zen feel to it. The stewardesses and stewards spoke both English and Japanese. Trying to make the fares their worth?
- 2 -
Upon arrival in Tokyo Narita, ushers were standing by near our gate, directing passengers to the connecting flight to Los Angeles. A Causasian couple walked past, and the lady Japanese usher waved them back and told them, “Los Angeles, this way please.” To which the man replied, “No, we just came from there. We don’t want to go back!” It was said in a lighthearted manner, meant to be a teasing joke. But the poor usher was made embarrassed at her slight and kept bowing apologetically. She looked distraught, despite the couple’s attempts to assure her that “It’s perfectly alright!”
- 3 -
They had a new fingerprinting system at immigration control. You had to press both pointing fingers on the machines, and then it’d go ‘click’ and a snapshot of your fingerprints would be taken and show up on the control officer’s screen. It didn’t work for me. I was told to try my thumbs. Then my pointers again. Then my middle fingers. The machine was designed so that you had to fold in your other fingers other than the one being fingerprinted. So for a few seconds, I was relishing the amusing situation of having my both my middle fingers pointed directly at a figure of authority and not being reprimanded for it…
- 4 -
We had our Christmas dinner at a restaurant at Haneda Airport, since we were staying at the airport hotel for a night. There was still more than two hours to midnight when we walked through the airport, but already the airport staff were taking down Christmas trees and decor on shop and cafe windows. Talk about efficiency!
- 5 -
There are Hong Kongers everywhere in all the major cities… crowds of them. Tour buses full. Can’t avoid them. I’m not sure if it’s because we speak Cantonese ourselves and thus I am trained to pick it up when I hear it… or is it that HKgers do in fact speak in louder tones than other people?
- 6 -
Tokyo was hot. Over 11 °C. I was in short sleeves and with scarf wrapped around my neck, it was not uncommon to find me perspiring in the ovens of the department stores - their heaters are too much to bear! Once outdoors, I’d continue to sweat it out if I wore an additional jacket layer, so I’d have to take it off. My sis was in long sleeves, and she was complaining and wished she was in short-sleeves instead. I do not understand how the people both on the streets and inside the shops can stand it - the former dressed as people do in Hokkaido (we’re talking insulation, not fashion, of course. People in fashion-conscious Tokyo would never dress as sloppily as their northern neighbours), and the latter dressed as if they were still outdoors, keeping all their layers on. I am forced to assume that their sweat glands are rendered inactive in winter.
- 7 -
I love spotting humourous instances of Engrish:
On a hotel fire escape route map: ‘Robby’ was used in place of ‘lobby’.
‘Do not splash water’ on the toilet seat or it ‘may cause cause fire or trouble’.
A drawer in my hotel room was labelled ‘green tea things and glass’. The Japanese translates as ‘tea set’.
And more, only that I can’t remember them at the moment. Took pics of them with my mom’s camera, so I don’t have them with me right now.
Oh, my favourite was finding out that DSLRs can double up as flamethrowers, with some camera models capable of shooting up to 5 ‘flames per second’.
- 8 -
I think I’ve become immune to delays, waits, queues, and traffic jams. Living in London does that to you. And a good thing too. Why rush if there’s no point in rushing, if your impatience cannot solve anything? Enjoy the moment! Even if you’re not doing anything. Much.
- 9 -
We were talking with our Japanese hosts, who organised the dog-sledding and ran the pension house we stayed in during one of our stops in Hokkaido. They are both in their mid-fifties - but you would never have guessed if you hadn’t known! The wife is a F1 driver, and still races with her pals from around the country, and the husband likes to go caving and cliff-climbing in Hong Kong. They keep about a dozen sled dogs, a mixture of huskies and shiba inu-lookalikes. They had moved out of the city a long while back, now living a peaceful existence in the countryside, away from the frustrations and the stresses of a modern society. I found myself envying their lifestyle, in a certain way. They were extremely hospitable, friendly but quiet folks who admitted that they weren’t that used to having noise in the house - now, my family doesn’t exactly make a racket where we go but they did describe us as ‘ăăăă’!
- 10 -
Such contradictory consumption behaviour. Recycling bins are everywhere. But the Japanese love elaborate packgaging and wrapping up simple items in layers and layers of quality paper or in cute, tiny little bags. Among other things that serve no practical purpose save for aesthetics. I was waiting in the car, which was parked outside a 7-eleven outlet in the outskirts of a small town in Hokkaido. A car pulled up next to ours, a lady got out, opened the backseat door, and took out a few plastic bags of what looked like trash. She walked over to the recycling bins outside 7-eleven, and poured out the rubbish which were all sorted into plastic bottles, cans and paper. Then she got back into her car and left. I looked on with keen interest.
- 11 -
What if snow wasn’t white? What if snow was any other colour other than white? Would snow still be as beautiful then? Or does white naturally encompass purity and beauty?
- 12 -
Never knew that the Japanese cranes would be this difficult to shoot. I hadn’t thought of it. Perhaps I was looking forward to just seeing these majestic, slender birds and not so much of actually photographing them. Did a couple of technical boo-boos when I was shooting them - too high an ISO, too much noise, overdid the shutter speeds, exposure was wrong. Hard to get the details out for both its black and white plumage. It was freezing out there, standing still in in the chilly winds, my bum wet from sitting on the snow when trying to shoot in level with the cranes, my fingers numbed and nearly frostbitten since I had to leave the tips exposed to operate the camera and lens. But to see them in real life and not in magazines and winning photographic entires, at long last - these red-capped cranes that can be found nowhere else in the world but in eastern Hokkaido - to watch them up close, through my lens, dancing and singing in fields and hills of white… what a feeling. I watched as one, then two, then some, then all heads turned to look as a canine (looking suspiciously like an artic fox-dog) approached the flock, and then all the cranes lifted and sailed off together in one direction, landing a few metres further to the east. There was no sense of alarm; only an aura of grace and confidence.
- 13 -
Why is there always that curiosity among wildlife photographers of one another’s kit? Is it that we envy what the other has (or if ours is ’superior’, then we would lay claim to boasting rights) or that we subconsiously gauge a photographer’s worth by the size of his lens - the higher quality a piece of kit, the more expensive, and the more passionate the man is about his art, or do we simply feast our eyes on these beautiful babies (the way I’d look at the lens on display in a camera shop), or are we seeking to open a gateway to interact with fellow wildlife photographers, and use talks of camera equipment (later leading on to discussions of wildlife) as an excuse to engage in a conversation? There seems to be an unspoken code that to stand in silence, to have our faces glued to our camera panels, even while the shutter is at rest, is impolite behaviour. You are expected to talk. Not that I protest. I greatly enjoy these brief periods of understanding among strangers bound by a common passion.
- 14 -
We flew on new year’s day. It was a short flight from Kushiro to Tokyo, and so it was a small aircraft and we flew low, just under the clouds. To observe the vast expanse of mountains, rivers, forests, meadows and towns beneath you - it is a humbling experience. When a train on a rail track appears no larger than an ant’s antennae, individual beings on earth seem so insignificant.
5:14
While it may be said that the camera doesn’t lie, the framing and interpretation of reality lies very much with the photographer and the viewer.
This is right outside our flat. My street’s not actually this quiet. Not a street, in fact, but a road, and a major road at that. It takes a bit of patience and good timing to stand by the kerbside to get a frame where no cars and light trails could be seen, giving a serenely quiet atmosphere. It’s definitely not as eerie as what the photos suggest it to be, but it was certainly not what you’d call a normal Friday night. Would have been perfect for a Jack the Ripper thriller-mystery genre setting (or a romantic one - you decide). It’s been a misty few nights, and thus rather warmish. The moon’s bright and clear though, unobscured by the usual layers of clouds.
Meanwhile, inside the house, we were enjoying our little Christmas party…
Photos :: Misty night
Photos :: QuGee-LG Christmas party
15:03
I’ll be returning to Singapore this weekend, but not before we have a quiet little reunion of QuGee and the extended circle and enjoy an evening meal with our friends.
* * * * *
A refreshing breath of chilly winter air away from the city centre was just what I needed to wrap up this season in London. The ponds have frosted over, ducks and geese are sliding on ice. The watervoles are, supposedly, hibernating. It’s a frosty winter, this.
When The Red, Red, Robin
Comes bob, bob, bobbin’
Along, along,
There’ll be no more sobbin’
When he starts throbbin’
His old sweet song.
Wake up, wake up you sleepy head,
Get up, get up, get out of bed,
Cheer up, cheer up, the sun is red,
Live, love, laugh and be happy.
The red, red, robin himself
Hark how the green-finch bears his part
Dusk falls in the early afternoon - Hush, hush, hush
Photos :: London Wetland Centre
14:52
Recently I’ve been taking photos of Christmas lights-ups, festivities, fairs, people, shop displays. But it is not the festive spirit that is motivating me. Instead I am driven by a modern sense of humbuggery - a railing against the commercialisation of Christmas. The very thing that repels me is what attracts me to, all the more, have it documented and presented.
What a grip consumerism has on society. Nevermind that Christmas was originally meant for celebrating the Nativity, and nevermind the common values of peace and giving that transcends all religions. Christmas does not inspire to give, give, give. But encourages to buy, buy, buy.
Just look around you. Do you hear what I hear? iPhone.
The big X’mas tree at Trafalgar Square
Carolling in the cold
Possibly Rudolph’s wife
Photos :: Christmas in London
0:24
Bankside Frost Fair
St Paul’s from the south bank
Inside Tate Modern
Finding that perfect educational Christmas gift
The ghosts of Christmas?
More photos: Bankside Frost Fair and Tate Modern
0:24
Flowershop in the park
London Eye Junior
Curious crowds
Ice rink at Natural History Museum
More photos: X’mas at NHM and Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park
21:15
Since I don’t have my handwritten diary with me right now (the high school volumes are in Singapore), I’ll just post here from time to time some random selections from my ‘Updates’ series - not the most original of titles, but they served well as regular emails/newsletters to friends during my high school days in Sydney. It’s all rather interesting to re-read them. My thoughts, my observations, my adventures and misadventures, they were all shared with my close friends. Steadfastly for the first year and a half, at least. That was before the blogging days, and that was when I only had more or less one main circle of friends (who were geographically-distanced!), so it was still quite practical back in those days.
For starters…
for breakfast they [the Aussie boarders] like to put spaghetti on bread, they also put lots of ketchup on scrambled eggs on bread and for dinner they sometimes put custard on rice…
~ From early 2001 (Year 11 Term 1 - first term at boarding school)
23:46
A wet day… a wet week, in fact. We were planning on shooting the main Climate Change march this afternoon but it was raining too heavily. I brought my kit along to lunch just in case… and since Bond St was just a few stops away, I hopped onto the Tube and popped out over the other side just to grab a few shots of the rally participants and to see exactly what this whole ‘protest’ was about. Banners and posters a-plenty, slogan-bearing hippies, students, right-wingers, political activists, and the young and old from the odd family group. Looked like they were out to have a day of fun more than anything else.
More photos here.
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