Rantglass - because that's how things are.


Guess I'm not the fighting kind.

More than two decades alive on this planet, and I cannot remember a single thing from my early days.

The human brain is a wonderful thing, is it not?

It makes you remember things that you do not want to remember: the time when you were sent off to the principal’s office for breaking the rules; a five-year-old girl’s rejection to your affections; the slimy touch of a huge, white caterpillar that somehow settled on your toes while you were out chasing butterflies in the garden.

Embarrassingly enough, I still remember how I fell and scrapped my knees in the process – it happened quite a number of times when I was in primary school, actually. Near the drain right outside the classroom during a light drizzle, just as the bell rang (to the horror of a teacher). Another time, turning turtle when the other kids went rowdy as they rushed to get onto the school bus first.

Well, I was not exactly the clumsy type, but… Ahem. You see, kids trip over themselves sometimes.

At least we are still capable to have some desirable events forever etched in memory: the feeling of utmost satisfaction upon edging out your competitors to being first in class for the third year running; a vacation that includes a full-day outing in Disneyland in another continent; the first time you cuddled next to a loved one under a cool, starry night.

Life dictates that we accumulate and collect our adventures, misfortunes, lessons, tears. Our firsts, and lasts.

And remember them well we shall – although some will inevitably slip through, lapsing into eternal nothingness.

Now that I have National Geographic happening right in our own garden… pictures are posted up on Flickr.

Growing up with the yellow-vented bulbul - up on Flickr.

When they have grown and flown away to build families of their own, I wonder if will they still remember the amusing antics of a tiny group of curious humans who seemed to always peek intrusively from behind the curtains and feed them sliced fruits occasionally.

Sigh.

Details of this entry.Sunday, June 18, 2006, filed under Musings.
This entry is open to comments.
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  1. What are they supposed to be anyway? Can’t tell the birds apart from one another

    Mint | 18/06/06 11:31 PM



  2. Mint –
    If you have the time,
    You’ll find a rhyme,
    That tells you the name
    Of the bird in this frame.

    Just click away
    To flickr today!

    Tim Frost | 19/06/06 03:04 AM



  3. I think it’s a little blue bird… It keeps telling me things… Booboo here, boubou there…

    And leave some fruit for the little one! That bottomless pit seems to be quite fond of fruits. Bah. Actually, I think he’s fond of ALL food. Apalah…

    Wong | 19/06/06 10:12 AM



  4. Mint – Nah, I was just sort of documenting the growth of some newly-hatched birds in one of the plants in our garden. Pictures posted up at Flickr.

    Tim – Ah, so you’ve found your way there, to see the sights not-so-rare. ;)

    Wong – Unfortunately, the bird is not blue. :P And fruits are always good – but I heard the little one doesn’t like ice cream? :o

    And if anyone cares… the birds flew away today. Sniff.

    Strizzt | 19/06/06 08:41 PM



  5. forget birds. tmr is day for which i pray that you be blest. in fact, that day, and the rest of the year until that day comes again.

    soporific | 19/06/06 10:40 PM



  6. Soporific – Ah, thanks. ;) Didn’t know that you’d know about this.

    Strizzt | 20/06/06 10:34 PM



  7. what don’t i know that you know that i don’t? or something.

    soporific | 22/06/06 07:26 PM



  8. Soporific – Hmm. Good question. I’ll have to think over that…

    Strizzt | 24/06/06 12:51 PM



  9. Nice pictures. How did you take them?

    Adam | 26/06/06 05:29 PM



  10. Adam – Just fortunate enough to have the nest within an arm’s reach, I guess.

    Strizzt | 01/07/06 09:38 PM



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