On April 5 I went for a long ramble along the ridge of Tai To Yan, one of the New Territories' most beautiful - and most under-utilised - hiking trails.
Along the top, all was quiet, and I enjoyed the masses of wild azaleas and other flowers in full bloom, and the constantly changing colours of the hills in the afternoon light.
On the lower slopes, there were, as always, at this time of year, large groups attending the annual rituals at graves in the hills.
Indigenous villagers from the nearby hamlets they may once have been, but no longer; the lines of coaches and cars indicated that they had all come from elsewhere for the grave-sweeping. And, as always there was a great deal of uncontrolled and irresponsible burning of paper offerings around the gravesites.
By mid-morning the fires had already started to get out of hand in a few places. These 'villagers' don't live there anymore. Therefore it's not really their problem. And frankly, it doesn't matter to them anyway. After all, it's only an uncontrolled fire on a remote hillside.
A helicopter circled around the Kam Tin Valley throughout the afternoon, exhorting those some hundreds of feet below, through a loudspeaker, to show some civic responsibility, and not be the cause of unnecessary hill-fires. A well-intentioned, expensive, and ultimately pointless exercise.
Later the same evening, I stood on my rooftop and watched a thin ribbon of flame, winding slowly up the mountainside where a few hours before I had been walking. The following morning there were great grey patches, still smouldering, where the day before had been wild flowers and a waving sea of long grass, brown before the spring rains.
