During the day, you’ll find me curled up with my family, tucked away among leaves and tangled branches, resting and grooming while the forest carries on below. Daylight isn’t really my thing you see. Night is when I feel brave enough to head out. Once the sun slips away, I begin my slow patrol for food. Life for a loris is quiet and careful. No rushing. No noise. Just the forest, and me, taking it one step at a time.

You might think the night hides you. It does, a bit. It certainly makes everything quieter, which I totally appreciate. Things feel less rushed once the light is gone. Fewer sudden movements. Fewer surprises…for me at least. I find it easier to think. I spend a lot of time just… looking. Stopping. Waiting. Calculating. Deciding. I know it probably seems like I’m hesitating, but I like to be sure before I move, you know? These eyes of mine are really good at judging space, especially the kind of space that decides whether you land neatly on a branch or regret your choices… like my cousin Nohans Groober did, may he rest in peace. I’ve learned not to rush either outcome. I also try not to draw attention to myself. Slow steps help with that. So does standing very still when something unexpected happens. Insects are particularly easy to fool this way. They often assume I’m part of the tree, which works out nicely for me. I’m not terribly picky when it comes to food anyway. A crunchy insect, a bit of fruit, eggs, tiny reptiles… whatever happens to be close and cooperative. Most nights pass like that. Nothing dramatic. Just me moving about, satisfying my curiosity, and hoping the forest doesn’t notice me too much. That seems to work for both of us.

Guests at Explorer by Eco Team in the Sinharaja Rain Forest often talk about how different the forest feels once night falls. On some walks, if you are lucky and quiet enough, you might spot a Sri Lankan Red Slender Loris. Usually just a pair of wide eyes at first, then a small shape moving carefully along a branch, almost as if it is surprised to be seen. There’s no big moment or announcement. It just happens. Walks with the naturalist team tend to feel more like a shared experience than a guided activity, where you take your time, watch, and let the forest reveal things in its own way.