The Botanical Gardens is definitely one interesting place that I would recommend to anyone who asks me for my advice. The beauty of it is somehow beyond description. Each flower, each plant has its own way of capturing your soul. Each blade of grass, each tree somehow knows how to coordinate with others to form a picturesque scenery that no architect or designer could ever copy. No best selling novelist or Nobel prize winner could possibly put its miraculous beauty into words. One actually has to be there to feel the magic it does to me, and it still does, until today. I vividly remember the first day I explored this place. Contrary to my views about it now, I found this place no different from my own garden, even worse. It was still dark when my parents drove me here. Under thick, heavy eyelids, my sleepy eyeballs focused on the twinkling stars blinking at me. They were probably warning me about this place that I was about to explore, at least that was what I thought at that time as I was dragged to my feet after sleeping no more than four hours and to tolerate the incessant comments my parents made on the way to it. When I was standing at the gate, the land was still enveloped in the darkness of the previous night. And yet, I could vaguely see some people already strolling up and down.
How could these old people see in such darkness? Maybe it was my brain that refused to let my eyes function as a way of punishment for allowing myself to be dragged to this place and having to skip my precious sleep. I clung to my mother’s hand, afraid that I would get lost. The smell, yes, the dreadful stench I breathed in until I thought I might throw up if I stayed any longer. I didn’t, of course. Then, there were noises everywhere, the horrible sounds made by some disgusting bugs, trying to scare their enemy away, I guess; the sound of the monkeys swinging above my head, trying to show off, huh? Well, you won’t get my compliments, though. Not forgetting to mention the annoying mosquitoes! They followed me everywhere, just to suck my tasty blood. Worst of all, they kept hovering around my ears and when I made several attempts to kill them with my palm, I ended up slapping my own face. And finally, there was fog everywhere. Even though I could hardly see, I could actually feel it lingering around me, like a deadly ghost which was about to swallow me up. The cold intensified, its wet swirl penetrating my clothing, chilling and numbing me.
... his wife in Florida. In his book, And the Crooked Places Made Straight, Chalmers focuses in upon the nineteen-sixties as a decade ... but are ignored afterwards. Nevertheless, his book, And the Crooked Places Made Straight, should be read by those who wish to improve ... And the Crooked Places Made Straight David Chalmers was born in New York. He received ...
Oh, God! This is worse then hell, please bring me out of this place. That was what I prayed at that time, and thank God, He didn’t answer me. It must be miles that I’d walked since I was feeling like a zombie, dragged by my mother. It was then that I suddenly saw rays of sunlight eagerly emerging from behind the valley. Within a minute, it cast a whole new world in front of me. Suddenly I saw it all! I saw its beauty; the same beauty that had captivated visitors all this while. I was actually standing on a bridge similar to Penang’s prominence. My sleepiness vanished in an instant as the cool, gentle morning breeze kissed my face and lifted my hair as if trying to tell me, “Wake up, sleepy head”. I witnessed those trees, plants, flowers, small hells, stream, bridges, children, elderly people, combining to create their own unique and mirrored beauty. I forgot about time as I let my gaze play around the green of the trees, the pale blue and pinks of the flowers, the different patterns of the grass as the wind wove everything onto different dimensions from one minute to the next.
The birds seemed to be in good mood as they kept singing this beautiful melody until I found myself humming along with them too. I started to jog, surprisingly, without feeling tired. The number of visitors had tripled without my realizing it. Even toddlers who had just learned to walk eagerly followed their parents to explore the wonder of this land. Lucky them! I felt pity for myself for not knowing of its existence until then. I saw some people picnicking on the grass verge, depicting their happiness to mother earth. There were groups of middle-aged people practising their ‘Tai-chi” here and there. Serenity and peace showed on their face. Perhaps its their way of relaxing and at the same time search for peace in their minds and souls. Tourists were seen everywhere. From their faces, I could tell them that this place appeared to be as interesting to them as it was to me. Monkeys were one of the biggest attractions here. Seeing their antics, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Of This Time, Of That place The story Of This Time, Of That Place, has many different conflicts. The main conflict is between Joseph Howe and a student named Tertan. Joseph Howe was going to his firs day of class. As he entered the classroom all of the students looked at him appraisingly. This gave Dr. Howe a sense of power. Dr. Howe quickly issued an assignment. As the class is working on the ...
My earlier opinion of them changed totally as I saw them grabbing bananas and peanuts from the frightened children. Some poor children were chased by them. Those fierce looks on their faces forced the little ones to throw whatever food were in their hands to the hungry monkeys. I had to admit they were actually as clever as humans, only more mischievous and entertaining. I followed my mother along a little dark path. I felt like Tarzan in a real jungle. Seeing the little ants working diligently in a straight line, I realized how I had squandered my time away. Even animals knew how precious time was. And there, in the middle of all the flora and fauna, I saw the famous lotus lake. The lotus with its big, pale pink petals and yellows buds, all squeezing into the small lake somehow seduced me, as it always did to all the visitors.
The path brought me to another noteworthy place, the orchidarium – an enormous cage full of hundreds of species of orchids from all over the world. Trailing down the tarred path, I reached the cactus farm. It still amazes me now that such large cactus can be planted in Malaysia. I spent almost three hours just observing the natural beauty created by the hand of God. When I walked out of the Botanical Gardens, I took a quick look around. Mother Nature has now been so badly damaged and polluted that humans find it so uncomfortable to live in this place. Thus, their only effort•to preserve the treasures of Mother Nature is by creating and maintaining the Botanical Gardens.