Still waters, hidden depths
By PS Ooi
THERE are places so secret they seem to whisper; Tasik Cermin – or Mirror Lake – is one of them.
Tucked behind the limestone folds on the industrial edge of Ipoh – where cement trucks rumble past factories and the heat bakes gravel grey – a different world waits in stillness.
You don’t stumble upon Tasik Cermin. You seek it. Or someone tells you. And even then, you’re not sure it’s real – until it appears.
There’s no grand entrance. Just a narrow path shrouded in foliage, leading to a tunnel carved through rock.
Here, the world shifts.
Your footsteps echo across the uneven floor as you move from sunlight into shadow.
The air cools, cave-like and damp. A faint scent of moss and lime clings to the stone.
Then, light returns. You don’t so much step out as enter in. The lake lies ahead like a page of glass.
Encircled by cliffs that rise like ancient sentinels, thick with vines and trees clinging to every crevice, the water holds the sky in its palm.
Reflections are near perfect – a mirror in still water.
Look up to see jagged peaks. Look down to see them again, softened and swaying.
There is silence here. Not emptiness, but a kind of fullness – like the pause before a prayer.
Birds flit above, tiny arcs of movement in the calm. Cicadas hum high in the canopy. The air tastes green.
Even at midday, the lake remains cool, wrapped in quiet.
This isn’t a place to rush. You come here to slow down. To watch.
A modest wooden jetty juts out just enough to let you sit above the water. Your legs dangle – useless in motion but useful in stillness.
Dragonflies skim the surface like skipping stones. A monitor lizard slips into the shadows – unseen but sensed.
There’s no swimming here, no ripples to disturb the sacred glass. But there’s plenty to do, if you understand the joy of simply being present.
Watch the sun make its slow climb above the limestone wall, casting streaks of gold across the cliffs. Notice how vines sway in a wind you can’t feel. Count the fish – if you’re lucky – gliding just below the surface like whispers.
Arrive early and you might catch the lake in its dreamlike phase, a thin mist curling across the surface.
By noon, it lifts and the water deepens into hues of jade, teal and emerald.
Come late and the cliffs turn amber as the mirror darkens beneath passing clouds.
Each hour brings a different mood.
Some visitors come for the photos – and yes, it photographs well. Like a still from a forgotten film. All beauty, no noise.
But it’s not just a place for pictures. It’s best experienced bare: with eyes, ears, breath and time.
Tasik Cermin sits less than 20 minutes from Ipoh town. A turn off Jalan Dr Nazrin Shah leads to a gravel road winding through quarry land – unpromising at first, even gritty.
But keep going.
The rawness of the surroundings makes the lake’s sudden grace all the more startling.
This is nature framed by industry – a secret kept safe behind stone and cement.
Today, there are two Tasik Cermin lakes – the original and a newer “Mirror Lake” nearby.
Both are accessible through their own tunnel-like portals.
Though some areas now have railings, signs and stalls, much of the mystery remains untouched.
In a country rich with islands, jungles and coastline, a quiet lake may seem modest. But Tasik Cermin is more than water and limestone.
It is proof that wonder still hides in unexpected places – waiting for those who take the time to look.
Source: still-waters-hidden-depths
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