Wednesday, September 28, 2016
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.
Document done in OpenOffice 2.1 Writer, Trebuchet MS font, size 12.