Trish in Transit

“Somewhere” is at the view point in Boracay’s Mt. Luho, where we patiently waited for the sun to rise. I once told a friend that I like sunrises more than sunsets. There’s something about being there at the break of dawn to see the colors blossom across the sky and watch the first rays of light creeping gently across surfaces – a new day, a new beginning

On that morning, dark clouds loomed overhead and rain threatened to cut our trip short but we stuck it out, seeking shelter in the tricycle of the kind driver who pointed out the spot to us. We eyed the gathering mass of clouds warily and watched as the blue sky bled purple, pink, and orange, contemplating whether we should still wait or just head back. But eventually, the rain stopped and we stepped out to see the clouds in retreat, drifting in the opposite direction as if in answer to our prayers.

And with that, we had our magic moment. While the sky wasn’t entirely clear, we were happy enough to catch the sun as it peeked out from the horizon. The sun that morning was breathtaking. It was nothing like the midday sun – harsh, dominating and sometimes irritating; nor was it like the setting sun, its direct opposite, which is beautiful too but in a sort of sad and nostalgic way. No, this sun was welcoming and hopeful. It greeted me like an old friend and felt as if it were giving me a giant, warm hug. It was a life-affirming moment and if the sun could speak it would have told me this: “You are here and you are alive. Be thankful for that.”

The past three weeks have been eventful and overwhelming. Now that I’m back home sitting here on my desk, I’m finding it difficult to begin writing. “You have to start somewhere.” Start it, hurry, start something. Now.

Then I thought of this moment.

And I figured there couldn’t be a better way to start something than with a spectacular sunrise.