View From My Window

Sometimes I sit here at my computer pretending to write, when I know I should be writing, and just stare out of the window at the jungle opposite.

It is calming. It is, usually, peaceful.

At the bottom of my view, behind the parked cars, is a river. It is the River Klang. At this stage it is hardly a river at all – more like a stream or rivulet.

But it is called the River Klang. Names are important. Not to the river, of course, the river doesn’t care what it is called. It is important to people what names are given.

This river arises just up the road from my house. It starts as the down-flow of rain that seeps out from the foothills of the Klang Gate Ridge, which is a huge Quartz Dyke that has, in the far distant past, been thrust up from deep in the ground to its present awe inspiring position and size. This one is the largest of its kind in the World.

Quartz dykes are usually associated with gold but this one has no gold. Had it contained gold the British would have dug it all out when Malaysia was a colony.

The fear is that more development will rob us of the river. Should more of the foothills be covered in concrete then the river will only exist when it rains and for a short period thereafter. 

Sadly, developers see green as a waste of space that could usefully be turned into profit for them.

None of the developers sees the potential for saturation in building homes and shop-lots. Already Malaysia has more condominiums, houses, shops and malls than the economy can support. We have, recently, on our return from Kuala Kubu Baru, observed many abandoned projects and some that are partially utilised by a smattering of shops while the remainder rot away. 

And so I peer out of the window, somewhat wistfully, in the vain hope that the greenery that I see now will remain there for eternity. I have a dream that my grandchildren will still see green when they look out of my window.

Perhaps they will still see the occasional Stork or Egret, such as I have just this moment seen, flap its way to some unknown destination along the river.

Maybe there will still be Kingfishers with their strange calls perched on the roof outside of the window; monkeys in large troupes skittering through the trees en route to and from their feeding areas; Sunbirds, Magpie Robins, Minahs, Orioles and Bulbuls decorating our garden and the trees round about. Sometimes the Sunbirds and Bulbuls whistle and burble respectively as they cling to the grill of my window and attack some foe reflected in the glass.

We have had Eagles and Hawks in the trees, too. Occasionally there has been a Wild Boar harassed by the local feral Dogs and Pythons looking for a tasty cat. Green Tree Snakes, Black Cobras and Flying Snakes appear occasionally – the Flying Snakes and Cobras should be avoided, of course. 

Today a mini-Dinosaur slowly crossed the road ahead of our car. It was, very likely, on its way to dig out a Cobra’s nest with its powerful front claws – Cobra eggs are a delicacy for these little Dinosaurs that you may call Monitor Lizards. 

We have such variety. It is all located right here in front of our house. There is no need to go farther afield to look for entertainment when it is delivered by nature to my window.

Now I must go. I hear the clamouring of a Cicada that is trying to drown itself in my fish tank.

Sometimes we become rescuers rather than merely observers.