Memories etched, deep. The kingfisher stood erect on the railing, shining in his coat of blue. His eyes wandered around, on the constant vigil against enemies, his head twitching, his feathers ruffled. He seemed harassed, perhaps at the loss of his sanctuary. In a land where concrete and cement ate up all the greens and stifled the air, he had nowhere else to go. His usual swamp was cleared by cranes while the machines drained it of its old mystic charm, also uncovering what Man used to fear under the dark, murky water. And so he moved on to live. The ponds became part of the package which the city people endorsed-- clearing everything that was in the way of the blueprints drafted to develop the city. Gone were the blue clear water and the endless preys swimming, but he didn't know. Such memories etched in his mind, he sought high and low for the paradise he was in before. The URA did not issue him a warning of how they were clearing the land, neither did the LTA which, in its urgency to build roads, cast cement over once green and blooming patches. Years passed and the humans, being in the know, got used to seeing endless vehicles emitting high doses of poison, cement-stacked highways, cold and unwelcoming grey skyscrapers but only the kingfisher continued to lead its idle life and search for heaven. It lingers more often than usual at the neighbourhood canal, hoping to catch some fish to soothe his hunger pangs, while at the same time, wondered where his paradise went. Perhaps he too had gotten used to the idea of seeing chunks of metal zoom across the roads and the greens relegated to being part of teh decoration in the city than to dominate like how it did, with its leaves and vines spread far and wide but he sure missed the days where he was sheltered by the shade of the rainforest, accompanied by the cackling cacophony of his insect relatives.