GOLDEN
RAYS DANCED on the waves off the waters of Cebu Harbor on an early
November morning as the sun, full, soft and reddish-orange, greets
the dew that adhered to a rusty hood of a parked antique cargo truck
that mimics the sun's image on its tiny blob of liquid and slowly
fades away as evaporation began to work, sucking its minute existence
by tendrils of heat that reached across a vast expanse of ocean and
empty space.
I
love this scene just as the sun rises from its bosom and it had
turned into an intimate ritual when the sun's still cool presence
turns the damp atmosphere of the waterfront area into a
sweet-smelling aroma of salt heated just enough to achieve a nice
effect upon my senses. The breeze carries away the stale worries of
yesterday and brought about with it a fresh promise of new optimism
and joy.
Tide
currents waltzed its way through eddies and troughs and crests, as
foam and flotsam bobbed up and down riding its fluid back, a feast
for a teeming life below darting here and there without aim yet so
well directed in one route.
Far
beyond the buoy's limit, a sail-masted banca glides by with
such elan and grace ably steering through a passing ship's wake that
announced its arrival with bursts from its bull horn shaking the
early morning silence and serene stupor where, suddenly, as if on
cue, the berthing area suddenly becomes a beehive of activity and
aimless flurry that ends my short early-morning conversations with
the sea and sun.
Disappointed,
I went back to where I was the last time around hoping that these
same interlude with the sun and the sea at break of day would repeat
itself the next time I visit, unhindered and uninterrupted by some
unwanted decibels and black puffs of acrid pollutants that robbed the
cool late dawn air of its clear innocence.
Good
Friday came. The buzz wagon didn't arrived that day. So did the
buzzers.
Perfect!
Document
done in OpenOffice 2.1 Writer, Trebuchet MS font, size 12.
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