Instead of retreating to one’s own shell, why don’t we simply put up a pretty shell curtain? It wouldn’t be as extreme and cut off. Friendlier and flexible, too.

Light and air can come in. Allows you to see the rest of the world rather than be consumed with thy self. Now, that wouldn’t be healthy, yea?

Just something to think about.

Best viewed at 500

Submerged in the sea, a young Mangrove gathers strength to resist currents and grows roots to solidify its hold to where twas destined to be.

With each turn of the tide, it grows stronger and more stable.

At the moment of capture, it basks under the late afternoon light, breathing in salty air. Fresh, radiant, and very much alive. It was its time to surface. Nature commands it so.

The glory of a young Mangrove blooms at low tide.

Noticing how most love sunsets for its melancholic attributes, for romanticism, one can’t help but wonder why. It does offer drama. The emotion that comes with the splash of yellows, pinks, reds, oranges over a blue and white canvass. It’s quite an amazing sight.

Then we wait as the surroundings are slowly being enveloped by darkness as dusk settles. You anticipate stillness. You embrace rest.

But I love sunrises more. It may not be as grand or as impressive but it has certain qualities that I find endearing.

It comes quietly. Darkness melts into dawn. Breathing in the cool, crisp air, fears are pacified plus a thought, which will never fail to escape me, a new day has arrived.

Soft light. Bluer skies.

Every sunrise will always remind me that life is full of second chances.

Trivia: Commissioned by L to take the photo; September 2008.

One afternoon, exhausted due to the heat, I found myself wanting to lie on the bed and simply not move. But the light had dared me to.

Do you believe that light changes with the location? I do. Light in urban Manila is different from the light in that old room in Puerto Princesa, Palawan.

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I’ve heard it said before that life is like a tapestry. Experiences and people interwoven; leading to the completion of the work.

I know it’s not a tapestry I’m making but this stitching project has been on my pending list for more than a couple of years now. It was a gift from my mum, who loved this hobby to a fault. She had managed to frame and display quite a number of her works around the house. She had left this one for me to work on for a special (and meaningful, without her knowing it) purpose. It’s called, “The Rose of Sharon” — it’s something dear to me in so many ways.

With this simple task, I’ve managed to pick up a few insights on life.

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