{ This post was originally posted on Someday, we will see the world }

“Uncle” is an affectionate term we use in Singapore to address a male adult in his forties to seventies, even though we might not be family.

Uncle Bangpao is my father’s friend of more than thirty years. He lives around the eastern side of Singapore and does his morning walks at Pasir Ris Park. He once sent a picture of an owl to my father.

On a plain Monday morning, Jon and I urged my father to accompany us to Pasir Ris Park. Wise old Mr Lim, knew we were on an owl hunt, wrote Uncle Bangpao’s number down on a bright sticker.

Pasir Ris Park is a bird sanctuary – home to many feathered friends.

We watched two Crested Goshawk devour their prey and were amazed that many bird lovers frequent the park. They shared close-up shots of birds they have acquainted over time.

All, but the owls.

Mr Lim pulled out his phone and dialled Uncle Bangpao’s number.

“Huh? Where? Find an ‘uncle’ wearing blue-and-yellow striped t-shirt? No leh, can’t see. Where are we? Erm, we are watching two hawks eat a rat! A lot of people here with cameras. You come find us ar?”

Uncle Bangpao knew where to locate us. He knows Pasir Ris Park by heart. He marched us over to The Uncle.

{ From left to right: Jon Robson, Mr Lim, Uncle Bangpao and The Uncle wearing blue-and-yellow striped t-shirt – squating on the edge of the path}

The Uncle was on the phone but raised his finger out and pointed, “Owl ar? Fourth tree.”

He knew!

“Where?”

“There… that two branches. Do you see?”

“Oooohhhhhhh… there!!! Waaahhhh… so cool!”

True enough, a pair of Spotted Wood-Owls. They camouflaged so well, we wouldn’t have spotted them on our own.

“Thank you, Uncle! Bye bye!”

“Thank you, Uncle Bangpao! See you next time!”

Someday, the young ones would ask Uncle Robson where the owls are and he would be squatting at the end of the path, pointing them to the right tree.

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