Red juvenile leaves of the tree are an arm’s reach from the window sill.
A flash of blue flies past the old playhouse, a White-throated Kingfisher.
It’s only midday. But the cicadas and crickets rival the low rumble of the passing trucks next door — Lorong Belimbing, is its name, or ‘Starfruit Lane’, likely named after the respective fruit orchards that once surrounded this area. Today, orchards no longer line the streets. Instead, there are multiple barber shops, car workshops, mom+pop eateries, electrical repair shops and sundry stores.
Under the jig-sawed forest canopy of Rimbun Dahan, a moth dances among the crunchy fallen leaves; just as another browned leaf flops faintly to the ground. And as if almost in sync, like a football stadium wave, each tree lets go of the pieces that no longer serve them at the slightest allowance of breeze.
Again, machinery cuts in. This time, it’s a motorcycle screech.
But the sound of nature prevails. For if you concentrate hard enough, they seem to only grow louder; their sounds, shriller. As if they know, together, they are stronger. Together, they can drown out the imposing others.
A squirrel tail darts by as it leaps from one wild banana tree to another.
And without any warning, the smell of death wafts through the windows and the wooden lattice of the gable.
The stench of a decomposing carcass, perhaps? (No, really, something died around here and I can't locate the source of the stench. It's been three days.)
I’ll keep you posted.
Thanks for being here.
Dee May
P/S In last week’s sound bite, I briefly mentioned the idea of introducing yourselves on this platform. Here’s the thread if you’re keen to join the conversation. I’d love to hear from you.