Yong Mun Sen was ‘old school’. He liked to paint alfresco, though sometimes if it suddenly rained or became windy, he would resort to his trusted Leica (or Rolleiflex), and he was a superb photographer with a shop to boot. This scene of boulders and rocks on slightly different elevation of a stream must be in Batu Ferringhi in Penang. His son, Yong Cheng Wah, now deceased too, recalled that the trishawman Ah Kow, who was also a keen photographer, would often take him there – the transport expenses courtesy of philanthropist-art lover Loh Cheng Chuan, by special arrangement. Before the advent of public (and private) swimming pools, such alcoves of stream were a favourite picnic spot and lovers’ rendezvous, besides being a kid’s delight for its abundance of little peacock fishes as pets. It’s refreshing to watch how the upstream water meander its way down, past the big boulders which look like toll collectors, insinuate its way past a cluster of smaller rocks and regroup on more level soil. Although Mun Sen could have painted the scene blindfolded, each visit presented new possibilities and challenges.