Non-Fiction
<i>A morning walk in distant Irvine</i>
We arrived at our son Salman's one bedroom apartment in Irvine last Tuesday. It was bright and sunny but quite cold for us just come to LA from Bangladesh. Temperatures of 16 max. and 6 min. Celsius. Irvine is in Orange County, reputedly the richest or one of the richest counties in the U.S. It's one of 90 cities that form the conurbation of what is known as Los Angeles. For us neophytes it is a bit difficult to comprehend that LA is not really a city in itself but a vast area comprised of so many satellite cities. Yes and why not? To put it in perspective Salman's home in Irvine is 80 miles distant from our daughter Tina's home up north, in Santa Clarita. That's the distance from Dhaka to Comilla! I consider myself a dedicated jogger. Hence after settling into the apartment, Salman and I drove over (yeah in California you drive - even to buy a soft drink, generically referred to as "a soda" - our rickshaws just won't do here the distances are too vast) to buy myself a pair of sneakers a.k.a. trainers/runners and appropriate socks. The next morning was bright and sunny, with azure blue skies but when I went out at ten past seven in my track suit, the cold took my breath away, so I ducked in for a woolen scarf and a woolen cap. I walked briskly within the gated compound with winding cement footpaths but felt shy to break into a jog. A few others were walking too mostly with their dogs. I did five laps in my designated 50 minutes and worked up a mild sweat by the time I returned. When I was told by Allia, (Salman's fiancée) that there was a specific trail that went around the compound outside its walled perimeter, my curiosity got the better of me. Next morning I borrowed the keys of the compound gate from Salman and hesitantly let myself out of the compound. The day was overcast hence the temperature was up. I didn't need the woolen scarf but the cap was de rigueur. As I was in uncharted territory I was a bit apprehensive; but I pride myself in my sense of direction and felt confident that I wouldn't get lost. I could always retrace my steps and find my way back! Soon I was enjoying myself walking briskly along the perimeter walkway little knowing what delightful vistas awaited me! First the freeway where cars were whizzing past at mind boggling speeds on at least 6 lanes each way. It was then I noticed the high wall that protected the gated compound from the constant din of the freeway. Back in the apartment one hardly noticed the sound of the traffic that roared by so very close. I watched the traffic for a while, mesmerized. Since our last visit to LA in 2007, on the occasion of Salman's graduation the number of SUVs (that's Sports Utility Vehicles - a euphemism for gas guzzlers) on the freeways, had dropped remarkably. A clear indicator of the sorry state of the economy. In its place the freeways were dotted with teeny weenie cars subcompacts, my son tells me, but even so with a minimum engine capacity of 1.6 liters! They looked out of place alongside the regular automobiles and the occasional SUVs I felt they could be blown away in the wake of the bigger vehicles! As I turned the bend, away from the freeway I came across a bunch of Mexican workers tending the shrubbery around and outside the property. Beautiful bougainvilleas were blooming in their typical magenta splendor. The bushes were neatly trimmed and sculpted into wonderful natural fences. The grass was a thick carpet well tended and freshly mowed. I breathed in the scents and aromas of the recently cut grass. Yes, I reflected such luxuries of well tended lawns and gardens even outside of human habitat were only possible in such rich communities. Well, recession in the U.S. and California being close to bankruptcy seemed a distant reminiscence! Another bend and I come upon a river! Actually a narrow stream, running through the middle of a dry riverbed. The river however, was trained with boulders lining both the banks and to my pleasant surprise - a cycling track, properly cemented, winding down on both sides of the river bank. The clearly posted notice to cyclists to beware of flooding made me aware that indeed on rare occasions the dried out riverbed would be replete with the waters of flash floods. Walking briskly along I focused on the rivulet that zigzagged on the dry bed and to my surprise noticed a flock of moorhen, majestically wading in the muddy waters; their iridescent feathers shimmering in the diffused morning light. Looking carefully I found some wild ducks, then herons and spoonbills too. Small flocks of shrieking snipes were zooming along the sandbanks. What a veritable paradise and so close to human habitat. I found this amazing. Back home in the middle of November, a few friends and I had made a trip to the Hyler Haor, a reasonably large water body in Sreemongal, and had traversed mile upon mile of the haor in paddle boats but come across very few waterfowl mostly small herons, a few snipes, some black cormorants but hardly any ducks. I surmised the population density of humans in Bangladesh had had an irreversible toll on the wildlife there. The next couple of days the weather turned foul. I did my morning jogs in the drizzle but could not spare time to observe my feathered friends as I was getting quite wet. The local TV channels reported on the welcome but unusual rains over southern California reminding me of that famous song "It never rains over southern California…………..". The rains were quite heavy during the late afternoon. In the evening we saw footage of landslides in Hollywood, some homes deluged in rainwater, an articulated truck skidding and crashing into the road divider and traffic jams caused by slow moving vehicles on slippery freeways. I despaired that the next morning I might even miss my jog if the rains persisted! I almost overslept in the comfort of the silky down comforter and awoke with a start to see the clock on the dresser showing twenty past seven. Finishing my Fajr prayers and tilawat in the low natural light, I drew aside the blinds on the large bedroom windows and was glad to see that the sun was breaking through the clouds and that patches of azure blue sky were growing in size. Letting my wife Eva and Salman continue with their morning sleep, I dressed rather lightly in a fleece turtleneck and microfiber pants, put on my trainers and let myself out. The morning held promise; the cold was biting though not unbearable. The sky was opening up and I was sure more and more sunshine would be greeting me as my jog progressed. I continued with anticipation of finding more waterfowl in the rivulet that I was hoping would be having a larger volume of water than the previous days. Boy! was I rewarded the rivulet was substantially gorged and the water was rushing along at some speed. I despaired for the birds; maybe they had been driven away by the rushing waters or the rain! As I approached the river the slanting rays of the rising sun cast my long shadow on the rushing waters and startled a flock of snipe. They took to the air in unison, screeching their utter dislike at being molested by an interloper in their territory. As I looked around I saw the waters teeming with birds the variety today was amazing, no wonder the raging waters had attracted them. There were large herons - some standing 3 feet tall catching fish with gay abandon and gulping them down. What a sight! I was spellbound. Flocks of ducks, in a rainbow of colors and there was my family of moorhen! I counted the same seven sedately wading in the waters in contrast to the impatient snipe, that were constantly scurrying on the sandbars pecking at insects, worms and marine life. I was one with nature, reveling in the joy of the birds, their carefree abandon. Reluctantly, I tore myself away from the idyllic vista and made my way back home to find Eva and Salman dozing on in deepest slumber, blissfully unaware of the dazzling show that nature was unfolding every morning just a few hundred yards away from their bedroom!
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