Whoever said beach people couldn’t fall in love with the mountains is a fool because that’s not true at all. Sure, feeling the wet and warm powdery sand between my toes under an unspeakably azure sky brings peace and contentment next to none but that does not diminish the awe I’ve experienced amidst grand glaciers, cool craters and the secret-filled fields of the Mountain Province; something I’ve learned to crave year in and year out. These peak moments are made so much more when shared with people we love. I miss you to bits, sis. And to all the batches we have been accompanying to Sagada since 2006, here’s to you. Thank you for giving me a reason to go back there over and over again.
Thanks G, for meeting me in either place all the time with no fail. Your overpowering presence has more than once knocked me down on my knees. Thank you for teaching me how to live big.
THE MOUNTAIN by Emily Dickinson
The mountain sat upon the plain
In his eternal chair,
His observation omnifold,
His inquest everywhere.
The seasons prayed around his knees,
Like children round a sire:
Grandfather of the days is he,
Of dawn the ancestor.
Photos taken by a Canon Ixus and a Nikon D90 in various places – Mt. Pinatubo, Alaska, Sagada.
grateful slice: G, my sister, Alaska, Pinatubo and Sagada — the field trip that’s become a tradition.