In the tunnels formed by the arching of bamboo, there are paths to many lil adventures. You must watch the dust dance in the sunlight that passes through the green above for the signs. Some will take you to couples smooching like there’s no tomorrow, others to fat sleeping policemen, to weary tea sellers and sometimes to things not always meant for the mortal eye.

The earth here is ancient. There are circles where time disappears and the winds from different worlds talk. The clumps of bamboo which were altars to Nature, where serpents bathed in the rain or dispersed death. Even the birds have forgotten the lines that lead to the sanctuaries built by spells and thankfulness of the earliest men and things before them. Caught between the falling trees, the poisoned lakes, the blistering sun and the magnificent dance of the hairless ape, the birds have forgotten.

Even the birds have forgotten.

A shot taken at Cubbon Park in some lazy afternoon.