September
2 September
As I walk up the hill towards the reservoir, I pass under a Longan
tree. Longans are like small lychees and are deliciously sweet. There are lots of berries on the ground and the air is humming with the sound of ginormous striped Vespa soror hornets that are lapping up the sweet juice. They are fashionably clad in 70’s yellow, orange and browns, the hornets are enjoying the berries so much that they totally ignore me.
The reservoir is jade green and very peaceful. In a country that highly prizes the beauty of jade, so much of the water mirrors those soft, vibrant, glowing greens of the stone. There’s a rush of water
cascading down the dam wall.
It looks like an artist has painted the view in front of me, the lush
greens of the forest, the vivid blue sky with soft, bright white clouds, a glimpse of a shining pearl-blue sea to the structure of a bridge and the bustle of the city so far away from here.
After ascending some stone steps I enter one of the special parts of this trail. There is a comfortable dirt track, overarched by tall leafy trees providing welcome shade. There’s a glimpse of the green water through the trees and the hills rise up enclosing the scene. I can see evidence of the mountain bikers who love this trail, their tyre tracks run along in happy lines through the red clay ground.
This is a trail for steady thoughts now, a place to let my mind wander as I run around Chi Ma Wan peninsula. It starts at the Pineapple, the nickname given to a brightly painted dragons tail sculpture. Mostly the trail winds through heavily forested hillsides but there are places where the trees give way to the most magnificent views of the sea, spreading out to the horizon under an expansive sky, all dramatically lit by the late afternoon sun. Remote islands scatter in the distance, bringing to mind the bustle and interest that is Macau and China.
I notice the vibrant pink of new leaves on a plant. The new leaves are delicate and lace-like as the tendrils reach outwards.
I hear a rustle behind me and turn just in time to see a young Chinese Cobra spring across the trail and disappear into the bush. What an amazing sight, I hadn't seen it at all as I ran past it, sunning itself on the side of the path.
Most of the snakes on Lantau are extremely quick to move away as soon as they detect your presence, as far as I know, the only snake which doesn't move quickly is the Bamboo Pit Viper which is also responsible for 95% of snake bites in Hong Kong. Thanks to Hong Kong's amazing emergency response, there hasn't been a death due to snake bites for over twenty years.
On my homeward route, the trail has turned to mud. Thick, extremely slippery mud sucks at my shoes and I slow down to a walk and squelch along.
The sun has moved behind the mountains and I stop for a moment to take it all in, the peace, the stillness of the mountains and the life and breath of the island with its myriad plants, insects and animals. I will never grow tired of this beautiful place.
​
4 September
Every year Jono and I go to Sea Ranch. A remote 70's resort which went bankrupt, now home to a handful of residents and mostly deserted. It's situated on a beautiful beach, the sea has always been clear and bright blue when we go. Previously we went there on our kayak which was a big day out, taking three hours to get there from Mui Wo. This year there have been so many thunder storms that we decide to hike in.
It's a sweltering day and we can't wait to dive in to cool off when we arrive. We have the beach to ourselves. We splash into the sparkling blue water and float, watching the Macau ferries race across the bay.
In the evening we all walk down through the mud flats towards
Pui O beach with our drinks. The crabs are scuttling around and we see a family of water buffalo happily cuddled together in a nice muddy puddle, all except a small brown calf who is sleeping, looking very relaxed but obviously not old enough to join everyone in the mud. The white egrets are nearby too.
​
At the beach it’s low tide and the crabs have been painting intricate patterns with thousands of little balls of perfectly rolled sand.
​
5 September
It’s early morning, the sun’s out and there’s blue sky after weeks of constant thundery showers. As I cycle home from the shops, my eye is drawn to the splashes of colour of the wild flowers at the side of the road. I never stop here, it’s just a place to pass through as I go home, but today I stop my bike and walk back to take a closer look.
There’s a large shrub with five-petaled baby pink flowers, intermittently growing along it’s upright branches. It has a prominent stamen tipped with a floret which looks like it could be at home under the sea with anemones. What appears to be an extremely simple and almost stereotypical flower, reveals its individuality under closer scrutiny.
Next to that are some Turkey berry plants, Solanum torvum. The cluster of pointed white flowers centered with the brightest yellow are buzzing with insects. I’m delighted to see my all time favourite, a little blue banded bee.
One,has a fuzzy brown waistcoat and pearly orange, yellow and green stripes. His little pollen sacs are full of golden pollen which also dust his entire body and yet he was still darting busily from flower to flower.
​
7 September
There is a meadow that is full of large shrubs which are in flower now, Senna alata, Emperor's candlesticks. Sunflower yellow flowers rise on tall spires. The petals fold in like little balls. On the way up the Old Village Path I notice a stick insect who is quick to play dead. I stop for quite a while before the mosquitoes drive me on. I love the dedication that the stick insect gives to its performance, never moving out of character, a very convincing performance of being as dead as a door-nail.
The yellow orchids, Spathoglottis pubescens, are still in full flower, even more than when I was here last.The hillside is covered with them at one section. Today I notice that all the grasses are in flower. I never realized how many different types of grass there were until they all came out in flower, and their flowers are beautiful.
Butterfly alley is still full of butterflies, enjoying the nectar from the tiny white flowers. There is a wonderful earwig type insect on the path with an overlarge amour-plated body which doesn’t slow it down at all. It scurries to and fro on the path.
There’s a pale pink sunset at the top of the mountain. The far away islands are swathed in pale silvers and pinks. It grows dark quickly and I use my headlamp on the way down. The spiders have been exceedingly quick to spin large webs over the path and I feel bad for having to break them so soon after being completed. One spider was already starting her dinner of a freshly caught insect.
It’s a bit crowded on the path at sundown,there are so many insects and spiders. I’m not sure who is jumping more, the grasshoppers or me.
​
8 September
Today on my way home from buying vegetables from the market, I stopped to see if I could find any blue banded bees enjoying their favourite flower and joy, there they were.
I watched as they stopped at each flower, curling their little bodies almost into a ball while they held onto the yellow stamen.
I’ve been here a number of times but find that the bees are only here in the morning and disappear at noon when the sun gets hot.
​
11 September
Tara and I sometimes ride down to the beach on our bikes in the evening. Today we were rewarded with a sunset of luminous apricot and pink.
12 September
The trail up to Tigers Head is lined with flowers now. A purple Osbeckia chinensis grows next to the path and the pale yellow flowers of a Millettia speciosa appear through the long grass. I see an unfamiliar butterfly resting on a fern, covered in tiger stripes ending in a fierce imitation of a centipede, complete with large pincers. It’s a Longbanded Silverline, Cigaritis lohita.
Further along I discover another insect that’s new to me, a very smart red and pitch black cicada, Huechys sanguinea.
A large ant scurries by holding a bright red berry. I can see the bush where the ant got its prize, it’s a small shrub with lime green flowers, a Wikstroemia indica or Tie bush, a plant used in traditional Chinese medicine. The berries are toxic.
​
15 September
Today is a beautiful hot, calm day. I rode my bike down to the beach to meet with the Mui Wo Open Water Swimmers for our weekly morning swim out to Bamboo Beach and back. It’s 2.2 km and is always a wonderful way to start the day.
The swim group was started by Bikeman, an extremely colourful personality, not only because he was frequently dressed in pink Lycra but also because he was such an interesting and lively person. He was extremely friendly and I met a few people who said that he was the first person they met in Mui Wo after moving here.
He loved riding his bike, competing in triathlons and helping at races. He was partially deaf and asked people to call him Bikeman since he could hear that better than his real name which was Ian.
We would meet him at the beach, he would be there every Sunday puffing on a cigarette before going for a swim. He passed away suddenly and left us all feeling extremely sad. Whenever the swim group do a different swimming event, we dedicate it to him.
This morning the beach looks pristine. The lifeguards are out and the beach is spotless. Even though the sun is shining and all looks calm, there is an eerie heaviness over the bay as Cathy mentioned when she arrived.
We knew a huge typhoon was spinning its way across the China Sea with Hong Kong in its path. Tomorrow would be very different in the bay.
There were heaps of silver fish leaping out of the water all around us, disturbed by our splashing.
We floated, parallel to Bamboo Beach, also known as Pirates Beach or Secret Beach. It was so peaceful and perfect that we stayed out there longer than normal, hugging our bright orange swimmer buoys. On the way back, four large Black kites wheeled above us.
​
16 September
I woke up on the day of the typhoon and looked out of my window. There was some wind but it wasn’t strong yet. I walked upstairs, I had already cleared the drains and prepared the house for the storm and I opened the balcony door and took a deep breath. The air was fragrant and strangely invigorating. I felt like I couldn’t get enough of it. I sat there for a long time, just breathing in deeply and enjoying the bright quality of the light. A shower passed over and I shut the doors to keep out the rain.
Through the morning the wind strengthened, stronger and stronger. It started to really howl and batter against the windows. The trees lashed around in the gale. Our home was quite protected by the surrounding mountains from the first onslaught of the storm.
We started seeing videos of skyscrapers swaying in the gale from people who lived on Hong Kong Island. Rain poured down, warm, soaking rain, drawn up from a warm ocean far away and dumped down on Hong Kong. Our flat rooftop was filling up with water, already a foot deep at one side. It was serviced by only one drain which continually got blocked by the leaves which blew in from the surrounding trees. I dashed out in the swirling air, bent double in fear from the shrieking gale and picked up every leaf I could, trying to clear the drain, before going inside, thoroughly drenched.
Then the wind direction changed as the typhoon passed by and the wind strengthened even more. I sat downstairs with our parakeet on my knee, anxiously checking on the rising water on the rooftop and balconies frequently. The wind was too fierce to risk going out now.
Hour after hour of constant rain and hurricane winds went by and then finally we felt the wind drop and felt a change in the atmosphere. Late in the day, at sunset, we walked down to the ferry pier to see tree after tree down and huge mounds of rubbish that had blown in from the sea which blocked the road and paths. Brick walls were reduced to rubble.
We watched the sea, whipped up by the bracing wild wind. Clio stood, watching the waves rush over the wall in sprays. MacDonalds’ windows were smashed in, the restaurant awash with sea water and broken glass.
Mui Wo had come through the storm and the clean up would start immediately. Hong Kong would mobilize and get to work, the community banding together to clean up tons and tons of rubbish and debris from the roads and beaches.
Typhoon Mangkhut certainly left its mark, 46000 trees were blown over and there was immense storm damage throughout the city.
​
22 September
The mornings are getting crisp now, though soon after the sun rises the air warms up. Jemima and I meet at 6:30 am to run up Sunset Peak together. The clear bright morning light lies gently on the hillside and sea. There is a line of ruffled cumulus clouds on the horizon.
We were planning on doing a quick run to the top and back but it's such a glorious morning neither of us feel like turning for home so we start the descent to Pak Kung Au.
On the way down we see one of the giant earthworms that come onto the trail at this time of year. This one is a beauty, pale pinky-brown with black stripes. It’s longer than my foot.
We turn at Pak Kung Au, meeting Jono and Salomon on their way towards Lantau Peak. On the way up I see an interesting snail, it looks like it's outgrowing its shell. Its charcoal black body seems double the normal length, its shell is a rich chocolate brown curling to black and it has fine golden stripes like it’s had an artist add the finishing touches of gold to its design. As I stop to take a photo, it detects my presence and retracts into its shell for safety.
​
