Sunday Fun Runs On at HK Park

I had so much fun at the Botanic Garden. Perhaps I could have more at the nearby Hong Kong Park? Why not?  On my way there, my eyes were struck by some flickering lights. They were shimmering images of fluttering leaves upon the polished steel surface of the arch-shaped canopy of the escalator from  Pacific Place up to Hong Kong Park.

Sunlight
was playing not only upon the cold polished metal surface at the side
of the escalator. It was shimmering upon tiny ripples of the fountain leading to the garden proper and a little further the emerald
green pond...

on the surface of the water around two and three serving-tray like lotus leaves on the upper pond, joined hand in hand, like lovers or family and around some other linked green hearts.

but not at an obscure corner of the pond where sat a pink lotus flower, quietly shielded by other leaves, perhaps being engaged in deep meditation, totally oblivious to the hustle and bustle of passing feet.

At the entrance to the tropical and desert plant hothouse, I was greeted by a leafy giant, proudly standing guard, its back turned against the towering steel and glass structures in the background in the first photo, as if those edifices from another age could very well just not have  existed, for all he cared!

Once inside, my eyes were dazzled by the dangling daintiness of myriads of orchids. Their stalks were so slender!  I wonder whether they can ever support their beautiful offsprings without help.

A yellow butterfly?

A lion-man with a purple beard and whiskers?

Three sisters each with an enormous bonnet?

A baby opening its arms for its mother?



Of course, there were other flowers and leaves too, simply too numerous to document.

Four sticks of frosted sugar candy on waxed paper in pink?

Yellow finger with carbuncles?

Three sisters in red leaning against each other for support?

Leaves which could not make up their mind what they should wear on the inside and on the outside,  like high school girls before their first prom?

A late afternoon procession of middle-aged grumpy and prickly friars?



On my way out, the sun was shining again, gilding the edges of some Brazilian flowers whose name I have now forgotten.

I followed the arbored path down, expecting nothing of further interest. But how wrong was I!  My eyes were met with thousands of tiny and not so tiny leaves of all imaginable shapes and sizes and colors. A veritable visual feast of various hues of green.

My Sunday afternoon romp amongst the flowers came to an end, caught by the translucent beauty of a fly-catcher pouch! No doubt about it: I was trapped forever! By the extravagant beauty of Nature.