Maybe the grass is always greener on the other side – because it seems easier to look far rather than near, kind of like ostrich vision. Maybe because looking far is actually good for the eyes, unlike staring at the computer screen all the time. So, we are inclined to look far and look at the grass on the other side.
And so it is with a city person like me. The grass is greener on the other side, literally. Most of the time now, I long for green, being in the company of grass and trees. I yearn for the fragrance of cut grass. I must thank my dog for it for without her, I would never take the initiative to explore where most do not tread, including the ulu semabawang park connector – which really is ulu and not very park connector-ish at all with its not very paved tracks and share of wild dogs. I appreciate it with or without the hot sun. It’s just the “road” and me, and the four paws of course.
The stillness strikes you first. The lack of humans and human activity. It is deceptively quiet and you appreciate the non-rushed existence. There is no message, no email, no demands on your attention. You take your time to put one foot in front of the other and then the other until it becomes a rhythm. Then, a colour or movement stops you. A flower, a bee, a monitor lizard. Then, you notice an ant mountain and some ants around it. You make way and take care not to disrupt that existence. You look backwards just to check if the off-leash canine is making her way with you. She is more than making her way. She is enjoying the scents, sights and sensation of the ground on her paws. The terrain switches sometimes, from paved to non-paved and back again. Sometimes, you walk on grass and become so experienced walking on grassy uneven ground you feel so comfortable on it, like second nature. As you walk on, you appreciate the life in stillness. Trees rustle and cast shadows on the ground and sometimes a macaque and its family peer through the greens, chirping curiously. It is far from still.
And so it is I love to spend my time and maybe even my life this way. I thank the genius who came up with the park connectors, preserving our reservoirs and its greens and all the parks around the island. The sound of the forests are too often drowned out by our headphones and the sound of our thoughts. Nature, you take the back seat because we have tamed you, conquered you and yet you lurk so subtly, so beautifully and sometimes, so dangerously. You and your imperfections are so perfect, more so than any city person. We do not live with nature, our garden city. We make nature live with us.
Look. Look at the featured image of the stray dog nestled in the greens. Can you see it? Do not get someone to hunt it down. It is surviving. I have gotten glimpse of a golden moment, when a living thing rests and is at peace in nature and with nature. Its pack is probably with it. They are all merely surviving and they are mindful of our surroundings, alert to predators and preys, alert and being part of nature. Am I romanticising living in the wild and that it is not as comfortable as it seems. Probably. For after my sweaty walk, I can always shower and be in shaded and fragrant comfort. Or maybe it is that I have not learnt to live with nature, being clean in nature. We probably have lost that skill since we moulded nature and formed civilisations. Who bathes in a river in this day and age? Which river is truly clean? There may be a few but so few.
The grass is truly greener on the other side and I am more than contented to live on the other side now and then.
Under (the) Covers 