River bank journal

 Riverbank Journal – A Morning of Stillness and Life

The morning light stretches gently across the riverbank, where silence is never empty—it’s filled with presence.

By the water’s edge, the ruff—a quiet and watchful bird—moves with care. She has been here long, long before the duck ever came. Her steps are slow, her beak searching among the pebbles. She does not need company, only space and stillness.

Nearby, a flock of burung wok wok stand tall and alert. Their pale feathers glow softly in the morning light. They move with grace, pausing, stalking, then striking at tiny fish that swim near the bank. They speak only in soft echoes.

Above them, a stork glides down from the sea breeze, flying from the distant beach to follow the course of the river. Though common in Kelantan, its arrival always carries a quiet wonder, like the sky itself has bent low to greet the earth.

In the grass, a flock of sheep wander in and out, unhurried. Their hooves tap gently on the ground. They are not tame nor truly wild—just free. They come and go, as if they too belong to the rhythm of this land.

From the trees, the burung ketitir sing their soft and steady coos. Their sound is the heartbeat of the morning. The mynahs, with their bold yellow eyes, call out in short conversations, hopping from stone to branch. Among the leaves, small black birds flicker in silence, too quick to name, too wild to follow.

Beneath all this, the river moves without complaint. Ikan belanak and tiny silver fish ripple the surface, drawing the attention of every hunter, winged or walking.

This is not just a place—it is a quiet world. Each life moves on its own path, yet all share the same space, the same morning, the same peace.

I sit quietly and watch. I do not own this moment—I am only its witness.