Oh, East is East, and West is West,
and ne'er the twain shall meet
KungFu, our neighbors' cat, knocking at my window late at night, wanting to come in.
I wish that would be what this pawikan could shout out as he'd karate his way out of his pond-prison and escape to safety and freedom. But unfortunately, he can't. He's neither a mutant nor a ninja. He's a simple hapless sea-turtle who had the misfortune of getting caught with his partner (who died soon after) and made to live in a pond in a resort as some sort of mascot. All he could do was raise his head a bit and look up at me with those soulful pleading eyes, as if appealing for help. And maybe he is. I'm glad, though, that he didn't let out a cry. That plaintive sound would have pierced the very core of my heart so deep, else I'd have lifted him right out of the pond and grabbed a banca to sail all the way to Palawan!
I've heard it said that the pawikan makes the most mournful, heart-rending cries. Like the sound of a young child crying. Philippine folklore has it that when one hears the cry of the pawikan, someone in the area is dying. Oh dear...
Summer is almost upon us. And so the egrets of Mongolia have flown off ... all except one. Did they leave him behind? Or did he choose to linger just a little bit longer? Or did he miss the signal to leave with the flock? Whatever his reason, he at least has all the little fish in the creek all to himself. An egret sans regret... I hope.
Caught this little maya hiding behind the gutter of a roof surreptitiously gobbling up a tidbit before any of the other birds got wise to what it was up to. Nature — survival of the sneakiest.
She survived being given away to someone else (or worse) when her first master died.
She survived getting run over.
She survived toad poisoning.
Three times the charm, they say. Usually, that's more than enough surviving for anyone. And, despite her ordeals, Pucci goes on happily, still sweet and boisterous as ever.