This tree (I guess it got uprooted in a storm) must have been lying there for quite a while now (though my eyes have missed it all this time). Let to lie–its branches have been cut cleanly, its twigs are absent (not even dry ones on the grass, let alone the leaves), and the hole in the earth the uprooting had left has been somehow landfilled though imperfectly so, maybe by time. The result–there is some hardness about it indicative of some human hands gone into it after the fall.
Just right in time, the bird came and perched on the tree.
The following is from a slightly different perspective. I moved closer to the tree.
The uprooting must have torn the roots severely–the primary roots are severed from the rest of their parts that still remain underground but covered by the red earth. They are also without the secondary roots–the smaller ones–that held the tree to the ground.
A weak sunlight almost imperceptibly creeps in through the dead roots–now just a thing.
All around, the trees are all green. This is from one:
It was lunch time, and I had to wait until the bank is back at work. So, I walked to the PSR (I don’t know what that means–everybody calls it the PSR) to see the rocks.
On the way I saw a colony of ants all come out of their underground nests up on the ground and hyperactive like they were preparing for a war. I had never seen ants hurrying like that. The action covered about four square feet. I quickly took a couple of shots–that froze their movement. Shocking. But it never occurred to my mind that I should rather take a video shot.
Zooming in you can see the ants quite clearly. But here are a couple of closer shots:
A few minutes ago there was sunlight, though weak. Now the fog has filled the sky above the campus and the invisible sun showed its presence only through its diffused light. This light has its beauty as in the following shot.
The tanks were behind me watching the ants.
Walking on, I saw a bush I had never seen, and it bore tiny fruits. Beside the dusty path, it was all covered in dust. I randomly took this shot–it’s not good, but I appreciate myself for this–I happened to choose probably the cleanest part on the tree and to take that I had to physically strain myself so much that on I could not hold the camera comfortably, which is evident in the picture. Even the composition is not so good.
A few further steps from the bush, there stood a stunted tree with a couple of its twigs broken causing the leaves they supported turn red and yellow. The leaves were dying prematurely.
Further toward the rocks, the dry grasses looked beautiful.
Looking around, right behind my back was a path leading down to a forest:
The bare branches into the far, about the upper right corner in the above picture, attracted my eyes. I zoomed that in and took the shot below:
Moving on, I saw more of this tree. It was at a far distance and I had still to zoom in. It was so far and small that I could not see the branches clearly (neither in the viewfinder nor in the monitor) that the frame has cut some of the twigs on the right off the frame.
This leafless tree led my eyes to what stood next on the left–another tree with vein like branches and twigs and not many leaves.
Looking rightward, the side of the PSR has rocks embedded into its belly:
This one is from a slightly different perspective:
Now, the summit of the PSR:
Interesting, two friends are sitting on the cluster of summit rocks. They had been seeing me taking photographs. They looked at me now, and taking the advantage I signed at them I was going to take the pictures of the rocks (it was clear they would be in). The boy facing me signed back to me and I interpreted that as “No problem. Carry on.”
Now that they had agreed to me taking the shots, I took longer waiting for a better position. Maybe the camera pointing to them long made them feel uncomfortable, the boy in blue started to move faster than the shutter speed at which I had set my camera to soot them. I turned the camera away from them, pretending to take other pictures. After a while they left (later they smiled at me when we met–I was walking back to the library and they were leaving in a car).
Five minutes after they had left I occupied their position.
Viewed from the top, it was all foggy. The sun would not come out again. Even a tree nearby wore its gloomy winter looks.
The yellow leaves of a plant were the most colorful thing visible.
The deep red flowers are bougainvilleas creeping up through the yellow bush.
The rock face below the top rocks looks calm. The central library is shrouded in the fog.
The opposite side of the hill:
When I returned to the bank, they had almost already ended their day. “Please come on Monday,” the banker attending the last customer said smiling warmly.
And this on the roof of Narmada: