Marina Bay

‘Twas the few hours after a strong, hard storm that swept past Singapore, where the moist air was fine and cool.

Light was beginning to dim, the sun packing up and ready to wind down after a whole morning and afternoon of shining, finally submitting to darker clouds.

But not without gracing us with her blush- ombre pink tinged orange streaked across the dimming sky. 
I strolled along Marina Bay, exiting from Promenade train station. It was a saturday night, and couples, families, tourists were all out, enjoying the perfect weather. 

But she was beautiful, her urban skyline tracing the Singapore river beginning to light up as the evening matured.

I stood overlooking the region at the Helix bridge, a light breeze tantalising my face. 

She was serene, her buildings and cold metal structures now reflecting the warm colours of the sunset, glazing my eyes with a different sort of beauty- a man made, concrete beauty.

Her river was gracious, clean and nearly still, politely accomodating the leisurely sail of a long sampan and boat, calmly taking along with it tourists and people.

As night dawned upon us, I made my way to Gardens by the Bay, crossing a board walk. 

I gazed up at the 3 tall towers holding a boat-like infinity pool at its peaks. I couldnt help bit wonder, was it Noah’s ark standing tall against the deep indigo night sky -a mark of the belief of an insightful architect? 

Each tower face carried a different pattern, combinations of dark and lighted windows, as if conveying some sort of code.

In the distance from a vantage point on the board walk, I could see the gardens, the very top tufts of the electric trees and branches, flashing lively with lights, and wildly coloured.

Being under one of those electric trees was unreal. How surprising and how ironic it was, to take nature and de-naturify it, to harmniously meld artificial and garden into one. 

Despite the UFO coloured lighting radiating off each electric tree, it wasnt an eerie feeling, but rather an ethereal one. 

They were surrounded with real plants, assorted greenery snaking up its metal struts, tropical flowers blooming from the soil at its base. 

The ‘leaves’ of these electric trees raced and flickered with lights, in synchrony with music that pulsed in the background. I was in luck tonight, placing myself on the concrete right in the centre of electric canopy; my eyes and ears hypnotically stimulated by both light and sound.

Before long came the lion dance of course.. it was the 8th day of chinese new year. 

As the familiar and loud rhythm took shape from the drums and cymbals, a red and gold lion began to prance up and down tall, thin struts, its young lion dancers underneath skilfully and nimbly manouvreing the bulky head. 

The lion began to take character, mischieviously moving its tail, blinking its eyes and jumping high in the air in time to the drum beats and cymbals, its vigour and vibrance embodying the spirit of Chinese new Year.

It was another world altogether, almost where mother nature herself meets and falls in love with man made, producing a mystical garden that showcases harmony between two exact opposites, boasting the best of both natural and artificial. 

It was of course, also very worth the squeeze with the Saturday night crowd.


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