Finding Home

We passed this place too many times in the past. A road sign planted at the corner where we turn right greets us every time we go to the mountains. Today we finally turned that right corner. The road is small but passable. We turn another right and we've arrived. We alight from our vehicle.  The air is cool. It is quiet. Water pouring from the clay pot fountain sounds.  We walk the tiled steps onto the veranda overlooking rich foliage, mountains and a river down below. The dining area is small, enclosed by glass windows floor to ceiling. We enter and homemade cheesecake greets us at the door,  Halo-halo too. We order lunch. I go outside again and explore the place. Numerous butterflies flit from one plant to the next. Fragrance in the air permeates from different herbs and spices. Citronella leaves are in a clay pot filled with water. Underneath, coals unlit rest. I walk gingerly, swaying this way and that,  careful not to disturb the green living things.    

"Ako po si Ronald, Surf Instructor 'nyo," he says. He holds out his hand.  He is slim in stature, around 5'3" tall. He has clean-cut hair and an easy, kind  smile. He is only 18  years old, a grade 12 student at the local high school. He lays the board on the sand and says, "Sir, Ma'am, 3 safety rules muna tayo, bago mag simula." (Let's know the three safety rules of surfing.) He proceeds to orient us with it in a clear, gentle but very firm voice. While he is laying out the rules, he looks at my husband. "Nakuha, Sir?" (Did you understand the rules?) He then turns to look at me.  "Ulitin ko Ma'am ha."(I'll repeat the rules.) He repeats the rules this time directing them  specifically to me. And then he looks at both of us and says, "Last time Sir and Ma'am ha. Para sigurado." (Just to make sure, I'll repeat it one last time.) Ronald reiterates the safety rules the third time. A good 15 minute

Fall, I see. What stories there must be behind this painting. With every brush stroke, with every crease of the brows, with every angle the arms guide the hands that make. With every breath taken as colors appear and shadows blend. The joy of seeing, the sorrow of parting. The taking and the giving away. The rising and the falling as leaves do and perhaps people too. And then the sharing and the telling. All in life is a letting go. But first an embracing too tightly knowing what must leave and what to keep. Artist: Rhyl Plaza , Ormoc City