i missed this place this weekend. we’ve made it something of a habit to cycle for an hour to this clearing, sit for a while till our legs stop tingling, cycle back and then adjourn for coffee, gao factor optional. there’s a lot to see at east coast park — grown men inching forward fearfully on rollerblades, kids pedaling with fury like their lives depended on it, but this clearing at our halfway mark is my highlight.
it’s special because it reminds me of many places at once. first, there is the bend off the main road and past the short posts in the ground, quite like where my white cement south davis path met the charcoal gravel and the roundabout. then there’s wild grass you can’t quite see past, which takes me back to colder, slower mornings with sam. only now there are no karst peaks or riverbanks, and i’m not rushing to grab a jamba juice before fiction class, but that’s okay. no more mourning. I don’t remember everything, but i remember the most precious minutes. i know them well enough to realise that this clearing in eastern singapore is my personal portkey, and being here is like having a familiar hand to hold in the dark.
retrospectif: a notebook 