Scattered Seeds

No matter how sophisticated you may be, a large granite mountain cannot be denied—it speaks in silence to the very core of your being. There are some that love not to listen but the disciples are drawn to the high alter with magnetic certainty, knowing that a great Presence hovers over the ranges.

—Ansel Adams

Since coming home the mountain double in Sabah, I have been itching to get back onto another mountain. But I can’t. Not yet, anyway. I can only be patient; waiting for time to pass, and plan for the next mountain. And in the meantime, I am but an armchair mountaineer.

Every once in a while, there comes an issue of National Geographic that I particularly enjoy reading. The January 2008 issue is one of them. Yes, the articles about electronic wastes, recycling, and the gorillas are interesting. But the issue stands out for the two articles about mountains: “Ice Warriors” by Mark Jenkins is about a team of Polish climbers’ attempt up Nanga Prabat, the ninth highest mountain in the world, in winter, and “Living With Volcanoes” by Andrew Marshall is about Indonesian volcanoes. I finished the January 2008 issue of National Geographic in one sitting. I just couldn’t put it down.

Click on the image to read the article at nationalgeographic.com.

Click on the image to read the article at nationalgeographic.com.

After reading the magazine, I visited the nationalgeographic.com website to see the additional photographs that didn’t make it into the magazine. That’s when I found out that the articles are on the website, too.

Having read the magazine, I should be starting on Maurice Herzog’s Annapurna soon. I received this book in November last year, but didn’t start on it. Maybe it’s because my copy of the book has a sort of a muted image of the mountain. Maybe, it’s because I’m mid-way through a few other books at the same time already—Tolkien’s The Silmarillion, Ismail Kadare’s Agamemnon’s Daughter, and Yann Martel’s The Life of Pi. Anyhow, I’ll come to it soon enough.

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Notes:
The “Living With Volcanoes” and “Ice Warrios” images are taken from the nationalgeographic.com website

I was curious to find out what frog I had captured with my camera when I was on Tambuyukon. I posted the image on my photo blog, forums and wrote to AmphibiaWeb.org asking if anyone can help ID the frog. I’ve had a few responses from herpetologists around the world. This, I believe, is where the Internet is most useful, and I’m most thankful for the many people who took the time to look and help identify a little frog.

As for the frog, identifying it from images is not an easy task. But, most think it’s a Pelophryne misera.

Here’s part of a response I received. The author quotes Robert Inger, who has been working on Southeast Asian herpetology for many many years:

“I am always frustrated by frog photos. They almost never show diagnostic features of species. Of course, my photos are exceptions to that rule–but only because I know which frog I photographed. But to return to the one you sent. It is certainly a bufonid and it looks like the genus Pelophryne. I’d be a lot more confident if I could have seen the hand clearly. But if we assume I’ve got the genus right…The mountain on which it was found is part of the Kinabalu massif. That makes it likely that it is Pelophryne misera Mocquard. It seems to have yellow and dark pigment on the venter, which fits P. misera. The snout shape, eye size, tympanum size fit P. misera. The leg is rather short. Everything I can see fits. It’s what I can’t see clearly is what bothers me–the shapes of the fingers and toes, the projection of the fingers from the palm, etc. Still, I have about 75% confidence in my identification.”

I still don’t have a 100% confirmation, but it has led me to reading up a little bit about frogs, toads and other amphibians.

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Related Links:
• AmphibiaWeb.org
• FrogWeb.org
• Amphibian Species of the World
• About Pelophryne misera in Amphibians & Reptiles of Mount Kinabalu (North Borneo) by Rudolf Malkmus, pages 85-87; retrieved from Google Book Search

once caught in the stream of human chain
feet scuttle in a one way stream—
there’s no turning against fate
’till after converging pass the hallowed gates.
thousands throng the throne in the temple
believing penitent lives are redeemable;
their every step a closer to a truth.

but i, seemingly invisible in their midst,
walk in aimless circles at the feet of their gods.
i seek after the one I’ve longed to meet.
but there in the midst of multitudes
no one has those beauteous eyes i know;
still oceans and seas lay between us.

with feet firmly fixed upon the ground,
i set my unfaltering spirit soaring to the sky.
guided by one same majestic moon,
i climb over natural limestone walls and escape.
the thunderous roars of thousands touch me not;
i float high and ride on the waves in the sky—
my spirit travels pass islands in the distance.
i let the the same moonlight lead me to you.
as the silver light bathes you with its glory,
i reach out my hand
and touch you.

on ’tis day, just as some stars
align themselves and come united,
you and i—in spirit—are joined as one.

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Notes:
• I was with Amir, Nee On, and Leon Varga at the Batu Caves on Thaipusam in 2007; our intention was to photograph the event. We took many photos; but I (if memory serves me right) had the lowest shot count. Since then, I have deleted all of the images I captured that day. Maybe there are a few shots of Leon that escaped permanent erasure if I had given him the files; no images are in my hands anymore. It’s not that my pictures were bad. It’s just that I don’t feel comfortable snapping (and keeping) images of peoples’ encounters with gods—regardless of any religion. The best way I could show my respect for their time with their gods was to clean up every byte.

I lift my feet into the air in anticipated flight;
Yet I move not an inch from where I stand.
Despite all my undiminished vim and fancy
I merely rattle the invisible chains
Binding my feet to the sea-level ground.

* * * * * * *

My ears channel echoes called out from afar—
Like clashing melodies with murmured lyrics—
Yet I make out each and every word and name
That calls out to me.

They call out to me from every corner of the Earth.
Oceans and seas cannot part us forever.

* * * * * * *

Each night, my sleep grows shorter;
Dream particles float and hardly take form.
Yet when a dream weaves its magic,
I follow the high adventures of
The Prince and the Blue Cow,
In search of their beauteous Queen—
Into the depths of oceans and seas
We ride on the backs of gentle whales;
We laugh heartily at the turtles’ tales;
In distant lands—some strange some familiar—
We sip cups after cups of coffee during tea;
We dance under the floating snows in the Sahara;
We sniff flowers scatter’d on unpaved roads.
And when we find ourselves on a mountain’s summit,
We do nothing but share scoops after scoops
Of yummy cookies and cream ice-cream.

* * * * * * *

I remain in the corner of reality,
Bidding my time ’till flight will come to me—
Those binding chains, weakened, will break
When desires grow too strong.

Oh, I need a mountain…

My warm heart bleeds away slowly
Behind a self-raised moral wall against desires;
Shielded and alone, my mind finally comprehends:
The pains and sorrows of the Earth
Cannot compare to the piercing from all sides.

I walk on lonely streets late into the night,
Looking for food to please an insatiable hunger
That consumes me from deep inside.
But without the guiding grip of a lovely hand,
Adventures are faded memories locked in a closet;
Clung to dusty trophies of a too recent past.

I roam around the spots I’ve always been to before;
Bearing a wish that I might hear the next irresistible call
That can come only from a royalty’s sweet still voice.
Alas, silver moons with changing configurations
Bring no voice, provide no rest nor offer solutions.
‘Tis heart of mine pines for precious moments
Spent skipping stones above cotton sea clouds
And counting the night’s twinkling eyes.

Just as the Prince and the Blue Cow travel afar
In search of magic beans to find their beautiful Queen,
I shall not stop my travels to high places.
For I seek a little red rose that’ll seal my wounds;
Yet I know that though the prize may come too near,
I have to let it go; for in faith there’s one other.
My warm heart will bleed on. Slowly.
I’ll be found on endless quests in distant lands–
Lasting many more moons than I can count,
‘Till at last a guiding grip of a lovely hand
Leads me to the summit at world’s end.

You never conquer a mountain. The most you can hope to do is to try and conquer yourself.

—Sir Edmund Hillary

Most people will remember Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay as the first persons to reach the 29,035-foot (8,848.13-meter) summit of Mount Everest on May 29, 1953.

But Hillary noted that, “I don’t know if I particularly want to be remembered for anything.” Even so, this modest and determined man will remembered for his philanthropic endeavours in Nepal. According to him, introducing the safe-water system, building schools, hospitals and medical clinics, and all the other work he has done for Nepal has given him “more satisfaction than a footprint on a mountain.”

I’ll remember this modest man for all that he has done and achieved. By overcoming, and perhaps conquering, himself and the mountain when he stood on the summit of Everest, he opened so many doors—in so many different fields across the world—he probably didn’t think possible.

For all the lives you have touched, here’s to you, Sir Ed.

Tenzing Norgay and Sir Edmund Hillary in 1953