I AM IN the foothills of the peninsula’s main mountain range, off Gopeng. It is early morning, 7am. From the balcony of my room, I throw pellets from a bag provided by the hotel to the multitude of pink and gold fish in the pond. They go into an occasional frenzy as the food hits the water surface, giving up the natural and harmonious swimming pattern they had a minute ago.

Two things occur to me. First, how finding food is the major concern of the fish as soon as the Sun is up. Second, how I, with my collection of smelly pellets that I dispense with a wave of my hand, am like the State. I feel the privilege, and the power. My largesse decides how the mass of fishes behave. I decide where and when they go into a frenzy.

Collecting assets, taking a cut along the way, and then favouring this section of the swarm of fish before other sections. That is my power. In this case, my power is arbitrary. Nothing tells me I should favour fish to my left and not the right. I am not accountable. To be sure, all in all, if I do it long enough and if there are enough pellets, I assume every fish gets something. In any case, the fish are optimistic.

I am a source of food, I distribute the energy that they need to survive.

I look up, into the jungle beyond the pond. The diversity of the tropical growth hits me. All is still, apart from the dispersing morning mists and the small birds winging between the trees; looking for insects, I assume. No one dispensing food there, except for Mother Nature. So much optimism.

I look at the trees. They vary so much. Some are darker than the others, some greener; there’s one reaching beyond the others. Above the ferns and bushes are the fronds of the palm trees. Higher up the mountain slope, I see leaves of all sizes, some bunched and some stretched out on long branches.

They are still and calming, and part of the reason I am here for the weekend, to be far from the madding crowd. The madding crowd is of course somewhat like the birds and the fishes, fluttering and swimming to collect assets. Using energy burning in their vehicles to collect assets with which they can then buy more energy in the form of food for their families, and fuel for their tools. Their vehicles, their phones, their air-conditioners, their factories. Collect more to collect more.

The jungle is still. At the moment, there is no mountain breeze to move them. The Sun has just risen above the heights to the east, casting brightness onto parts of the carpet of trees. One can feel their awakening, sense them welcoming the heat and the light—energy for their verdant leaves to generate energy. They grow at a pace too slow for my impatient eyes to observe. But grow they do. Rooted in soggy soil, they just need the Sun to keep its promise to rise every morning in order to grow.

Unlike the fish imprisoned in the hotel pond, these trees do not need the State. They just need the Sun. Like the fish though, they do compete rather peacefully for energy. Millimeter by millimeter, day by day, they reach closer to the Sun.

As the air warms in the late morning, I am reminded that the fish and the birds need the Sun too. The temperature must be right for them to survive as well.

Life moves at such different speeds, but energy is always needed.

As I put away my pellets, and as the air becomes uncomfortably hot, I take one last look at how the Sun repaints the mountain scene. So different now from 20 minutes ago. The jungle chorus has changed. I make out insect sounds now, between the bird songs. In the distance, some dog is barking, probably asking for its breakfast from its owner.

I am as yet the only human around. Feeling calm, I stretch my limbs, tired from the long trek up the hills the day before to seek out a Rafflesia in bloom with the help of a young Semai man called Mat. By contrast, I remember my recent days as a member of the madding crowd. I sought sources of energy too, but realise now that I had worried too much. We don’t really need much energy to survive. As animals, we are jumpy like the fish and the birds. But as thinking humans, we could be more like the trees, taking our time and waiting for the next sunrise. We need the pace of the Sun more than we need the power of the State. Nature before Man. Fauna has a lot to learn from the wisdom of Flora.