The tropical rainforest is a relaxing place to be. Even in areas where the trees are just a few decades old, they tower high up into the sky, forming the signature rainforest canopy. In a frenetic competition for sunlight, they extend their branches and leaves laterally as far as possible, providing shade for the creatures below.
In the early dawn, faint rays of sunlight trickle through the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve canopy. All is still quiet; wisps of mist mingle tentatively with the sunbeams. Neither the early birds nor the worms have awoken. Nocturnal creatures like bats return to their holes, burrows and nests, relinquishing the forest to the creatures of the day.
Hikers like us are just intruders, stomping through the trails like elephants, to be punished by the bloodthirsty mosquitoes. Unlike their urban cousins, the forest mozzies seem to be attracted to insect repellent. Their rapier-like mouthpieces penetrate clothing with ease and something in their saliva leave angry, itching welts. Barely five minutes onto the trails, I am already cursing all members of the mosquito family.
Spider silk occasionally hang suspended across the path, softly yielding to the hiker who barges through. Sometimes caterpillars also suspend themselves vertically on delicate silken threads from the trees. Alerted suddenly by a fellow hiker, I turned my head only to find my nose centimeters away from a tiny spider hanging down from a barely discernible thread. Caught by surprise, I screamed, the spider screamed and in my haste to get away I tripped over a root and fell down in an embarrassing heap.
As the sun rises further the forest reveals more of her secrets. Temperatures also creep up steadily, but thankfully the thick canopy above deflects most of the heat, keeping the forest floor a few degrees cooler. Vines, ferns and shoots emerge from the shadows of larger tree trunks and branches, proving that there are ways to thrive in the rainforest without much sunlight. Some, like the vines, adopt parasitic ways, sucking life from any host they attach themselves to. Nearer to the ground, low-lying plants and the occasional mushroom/toadstool seem to stretch and extend as the morning dew vaporizes from their leaves/caps. I see red forest ants already hard at work scavenging a dead caterpillar. Ladybirds come out shopping in gleaming red coats. Birds start to chirps and monkeys scamper across branches furtively, wearing innocently guilty expressions. They are relatives of the thieving ones who live near the visitors' centre. Those guys will snatch food right from your hands if you aren't careful. But who am I to call them thieves when I am the trespasser?
The forest denizens must hear us coming from far away, crashing clumsily through the undergrowth. Occasionally I pause and let the others walk on, with the intention of practising some macro shots. As footsteps draw further away, the forest seems to exhale a bit and resume normal activity. I stay still, eyes fixed on a random plant with funny geometrical leave veins. Within minutes, a couple of ants poke their heads out from under a leaf and start to climb to the topmost point where fresh flower buds await. A spider leaps onto a neighboring leaf, eight gleaming eyes seemingly staring at something to the right. I follow her gaze, eventually spotting a curious red-eyed fly resting on the edge of a leaf. Glorious fodder for the camera, if only I can get the focus right. Thank goodness for digital cameras.
At midday, we bid farewell to the forest and headed for the summit. Then, after the customary group photo, it's time for some good food at Beauty World.
Mutton soup, Chinese-style.
Chendol at the nearby Peranakan restaurant.
Nap on the bus home.
What sights and sounds will the rainforest show us again next week?
