3rd Nov 2020, 4: 40 PM, Temperate

 

The entrance into my sit-spot this day is obstructed by two dogs and in a bid to make them go away, I don’t really tune in as I am getting in. I just notice that the wind is less intense as compared to other times when rain falls. Because it is mild, I am not able to decipher the direction in which it is blowing. It is cold but as I stay longer in my spot, there seems to be an attainment of temperature equilibrium between my body and the surroundings. This makes me not to feel as cold as I felt initially. Actually, the part of my body which really loses heat are my hands. My arms and face stay warm and as I place my hands on them, I feel the difference. The fingers feel like they were steeped in cold water. It’s a kind of puzzle… Why is it so? Why my hands and not the other parts?

Before commencing with my fifteen minutes of observation, something gets my attention on the field. It’s a snail shell with a centipede-looking creature on it. I take a little video of it before I settle and deeply observe.

 

 

Looking at my squirrel’s tree which is one of my focus objects, I see no much difference. Perhaps I could say, presently it is wet (as a result of rain) and before it was dry. Also, I see a squirrel and I am so glad because, they seem to have migrated for a while. Just when I’m rejoicing over this one, another pops out. The first one slides slowly from one branch to another. The second joins it in what looks like a “search”. Both disappear shortly. I regret not taking a picture nor a video of them immediately. I was busy ‘seeing’. L At this point, one of dogs already mentioned, approaches from the west. So now, I am between the snail on the field, looking out for squirrels and the dog. A second, then a third dog come around and I am distracted by their playing. They should be siblings. The sounds they make as they play, resemble those made by leopards devouring something big.

              

My tender guava tree is almost forgotten. I wonder if I made a right choice by choosing to focus on it. It is still the same, tilted, abundantly-green, averaged-height and fruitless tree I had known. As for the field, what makes it dynamic is the different organisms I find on it each time (like the snail shell, now). I noticed that organisms don’t last long there. They’re here today and tomorrow they’re gone. I remember the poor mushrooms. Does it mean that the field may not be a good habitat? Maybe it is, but it is negatively impacted in such a way that it cannot effectively sustain some organisms. I think the ants, grasshoppers, spiders and special insects hiding under its grasses are doing pretty well.

 

There is indeed a mix of clouds in the sky but not in one area – across different sections. The open sky above my head is clear. I can’t identify cloud patches there.

From the northern view, I see a demarcation. It is like there’s a hole of sunshine and the rest is a shade of clouds blocking the sun.

I am happy to see layers of stratus clouds from the far north-west.

There’s a beautiful blend of blue and yellow colors in the sky, south-west. It makes me think of sun-set. That makes sense because it is evening and the sun is setting.

My best view is the Eastern sky which is navy-blue. It’s sad that the picture does not reflect this well.

I am not trying to predict weather because rain just fell and I am so sure it would not fall again since there are no more nimbostratus clouds which surely brought about the heavy rain which had just fallen. By the way, it is evening and the sun is not going to shine either. All that is left to happen is darkness. Just being able to see portions of the sky and understand some of them, is good.

 

The air is still in such a way that I flexed my ears open in order to feel something. Yet, there is nothing. Oh… there is something; a busy-body fly lands on my widely opened ears as if it has been waiting all along. I remember hearing the sounds of two birds differentiated from the other noisy ones. One makes “piuck” in a high-pitch and the other responds in the same way (piuck) but with a low-pitch. They continue consistently for a moment and stop. What a playful dialogue! A palm warbler lands on a palm plant in the south-west. I am keen to hear it sing but it flies away quietly. That reminds me; some birds take off very violently. I almost skip when I hear a bird flap its wings so hard. Only for me to realize that, “ouff, it is just a bird”. It is as if it is another thing.

 

I watch the centipede-like organism again.

It is monotonous in its behavior. It keeps on going in and out of the snail shell. What relationship do they both have? Why does it do that? These are questions that run through my mind. The snail looks lifeless. A fly is also parading around the area. I start hearing ‘crock-crock’ sounds and sighs from the field floor. They are unpleasant, coupled with the itchy feeling I am having from mosquitoes biting here and there. It therefore feels like there is nothing more to see or I am probably not willing to see more, plus, it is getting dark. That is bye for the day…

5: 48 PM