traversing the same route five times a week presents me a repeating view again and again and yes, again. the sight of houses, from well-made to thatched huts, occasionally interrupted by massive spaces filled with wild grasses or field of rice stalks, and once with a huge mall. the neighborhood will then be replaced with the passing silhouettes of trees lined prim and proper along the edge of the paved, wide highways. then the homes and factories and taller buildings will wave hello as if to signal the end of the highway and the beginning of the honk-filed and jam-packed city road.
with every single day passing, only the heat of the sun and the cold raindrop dripping are the signals of the Philippines’ two seasons’ ending — wet and dry. (and most of the time, like now, they seem to be fond of overlapping. like summer for the day and thunder and lightning for the evening.) as much as i wish to witness the season’s undressing from winter, spring, summer, and fall, i am only blessed by the summer sun and the sometimes gentle sometimes harsh monsoon showers.
yet still blessed, yes, for i am among the billions of soul experiencing the warmth of morning sun and the darkness of the velvet evening. to live and to be living, itself is a blessing.
the summer sun and
the monsoon rain take their turns.
my grateful heart sings.
—
09.05.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Devil_Jameson RAGE on Unsplash
I would like you all to write a haibun about how you are affected by season changes, if you do any special activities, what you have done in the past or have planned for the future season between seasons
