Songs of a City

I wake up with the sun rising gloriously behind the lush shoulder of Mt. Isarog. At about 1500 meters away from Bgy. Del Rosario where my Mom and I live, the "hunchback" mountain view is a wonderful sight to behold during early mornings. It refreshes the soul as one's vision is slowly guided towards the summit where the mightiest yet the gentlest power resides. Seeing a mountain, I lift my hand and trace its contours imaginatively and realize everything leads to HIM.

From HIM, a brand new day is born. This is a kind of day where May's flowers are in bloom. You will dizzy your eyes counting and smelling the differently shaded plants on Mom's garden. Varied yet beautiful. I reunite myself with nature and admire the fruit of our summer's labor. Had I spent the days of summer in lazy slumber, none of these beauty will be here.

A female voice calls downstairs. The familiar scent fills the cold breezy air. I look down the terrace and greets Tia Melay standing at the gate with a nigo (a native basket) of freshly baked rice pudding on her head topped with crisped coco strips. My breakfast.

Two hours more and it's another hectic day at the office. I hurry for my meal or I might not be able to catch my favorite padyak driver who diligently drives by the house at 7 am to bring me to the highway where jeepneys are stationed for a route towards the centro.

An urban creature like myself now living in a remote barangay at the outskirt of the city requires more everyday, and late night, sacrifices. Those when I count, are but cheapstakes for a fresh grab of a nice morning.